Sunday, June 5

Dear, Pacific Northwest...

I've been crushing on the beauty of the Pacific Northwest for over a year after reading incessantly about it from Umber Dove and Candace --and looking at their swoon-worthy photographs of pine and evergreenery fed my current urbanite soul on good and bad days. When a work assignment came up to cover their infamous music festival Sasquatch, I really tried to contain my excitement and take it easy because if anything were to happen to get in the way of this dream work trip, a little heartbreak would have occurred.  If it was meant to be, it would be... and it was. 

On May 26, two airplane rides after, I finally hit the road towards the Gorge with my coworker and when I saw we were entering North Bend, I squealed, without much care about what he would think.  My joy, it was uncontrollable. Trying to describe the beauty of this place seems an impossible task, because part of the magic is its ever-changing essence. One minute it rained the lightest, tiniest drops and the fog covered the mountaintops only leaving a teasing bit of snow in sight...

The next, the sun would shine bright and unveil a complete rainbow with the most engorged clouds hanging around it. Surprised clapping really happened when the rainbow came out, "this is too much, now you're showing off," I said to whomever handles nature.

When I mention to people we had to stay in a motel because it was the closest thing to the festival, they make a face, but really, I smirk because they must have never seen a motel with this view. A few steps from my door was the Columbia river and on a small exploratory walk the birds sang to me.

"Let me keep the calmness in this water, the happiness of these birds and the strength of the mountains," became my tiny prayer.

 Sing, sing, sing... Time here seemed nonexistent.

On my last morning there, after pulling an all-nighter writing recaps about seeing my favorite music in the most amazing venue in the world, I took a walk at 5 a.m. in the back woods from my humble motel room. The wind was making its own music swinging the trees into melodic rhythm, the birds squeaked, fluttered, swooped wildly... at home.


In the meantime, I repeated:
"Take this with you, take it into your heart."
"Take this with you, take it into your heart."
"Take this with you, take it into your heart."



1 comment:

  1. with your eyes wide open...speechless cokita!

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