It seems everywhere you turn, there is Rainier, impassively watching over you.  It has no face, except one that might, in whimsy, be imagined.  But it feels like god:  Rainier is the cause of the Puget Sound (more on that in a later post), i.e., it is omnipotent.  It is always there (omnipresent).  It sees all, and therefore must know all (omniscience).  Indeed, Rainier must be god.  It’s no accident the natives living around volcanoes worshipped them as gods. 

I gave up on writing a travel blog one day into it.  I’m just not into cataloging my life so intricately whilst I’m living it.  I prefer to live it, and then, after some time for reflection has passed, try to figure out what it all meant, and write it down.

Here’s what we’ve done so far–the Capitol Hill district; Pike’s Place Market; the Chihouley Museum; the San Juan Islands and Friday Harbor; Mount Rainier National Park; Yakima Wine Country; Seaside (on the Oregon coast), and Portland. 

Driving back to Seattle from Portland last night, it occurred to me that the last time it felt like I had my life more or less together was the time I spent in the Puget Sound area in the late eighties.  Ever since, it feels like confusion and discombobulation.  I was probably delusional in the late eighties.  In a world where our puny lives are controlled by the vicissitudes of impassive forces like dormant volcanoes, anyone who thinks they’ve got things under control is delusional.