I’ve been a nomad, as of late, putting thousands of miles of asphalt in the rear-view mirror. While my savings may not necessarily approve, adventure has found a permanent place in front of my wind shield. For those of you wondering, I’m living my best life out here.
The summer snow on Mount Hood was impressive, as was Rainier’s might. The wide and winding Columbia guided me between the two. Cannon Beach was everything I’d imagined, but better, as puffins and murres sailed overhead and brightened my smile. Devil’s Punchbowl fooled me at a glance, but put birds in my frame like no other place has. Gray whales in the Oregon tides refreshed my breathing with breaths of their own. The Olympic Coast and its rainforests were teachers, and believe me, I took some serious notes here. Roosevelt elk in the morning air surprised me and noisy barred owls in camp kept me awake at night. Point No Point had a point indeed, to meet fellow birders and share stories of our feathered friends. The San Juan Islands, were merely a tease; I know I’ll be back. The orcas I’ve yet to discover are calling, along with the thousands of miles left unexplored up the coast through Canada and Alaska. If I could explore them tomorrow, I’d be half-way there.
This is a remarkable planet, with plenty to explore. I believe my purpose here is to explore it, to learn from it and to do my part in keeping it wild. What lesson will tomorrow bring?