This past weekend, I went up to Ocean Park to spend the weekend with Mom and Dad, as I do the first weekend of every month, wind and tide permitting. But this time was different, because I went with my dear sister Ruth and her dear husband Tom. So not only did I have beloved company along the way, but I was not driving, and so got to spend my time looking out the window, which one cannot do when driving. The down side of this is that we were in their little Scion, which was designed for people with very short legs, and I was pretty damn uncomfortable by the time we arrived.
However, as we passed through the outskirts of Portland, and Linnton, I caught sight of Mount Hood, lit by the pinkish gold rays of the setting sun, and called everyone's attention to it, so pointy and distinct. And then we saw Mount St. Helens, also clearly delineated and touched with pinky-gold. You could see clearly the slanting angle to the top, where two cubic tons of mountain were blown out when her volcano huffed and puffed and blew her house down. I was commenting that if it were only clearer weather, we might be able to see Mount Rainier, which would be right about --- and there it was! We could see all three in the same shot, and if we had only pulled over, I would have taken pictures to prove it! All three of them were standing out sharply, in spite of the hazy sunny afternoon, all three were pinky-gold, and all three were RIGHT THERE! How often does that happen? Only one other time to me, that I can remember, and that was on a plane!
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