As someone who for 25 years has hiked the trails and climbed the peaks of the Pacific Northwest, I have seen way more than my fair share of picture postcard beauty.
At sea level I’ve trekked down the wild Pacific Ocean beaches of Washington’s coast, hanging out near distant sea stacks for photographs at sunset, then hiking in the moonlight back toward my car.
Four thousand feet higher up, I have happily wandered, in the pink alpenglow of evening, through the high, heathered meadows of Mt. Rainier National Park -- Mother Nature’s stunning gardens of wildflowers, far superior to anything created by man.
And I’ve climbed to the tops of the state’s great volcanoes, sometimes standing on summits feeling confident and strong -- but more often humble and insignificant -- looking off at views that have gone on forever.
The places I’ve visited on outdoor adventures are the kinds of spots described in travel magazines and guide books, and draw visitors from hundreds or even thousands of miles away. Believe me, I know how fortunate I am to live where I do...and yet I feel obliged to point out something I suspect we all know but might occasionally overlook:
Nature’s beauty might be seen in a flower pot on our kitchen window sill, or just outside our door.
The picture above was taken several evenings ago near a park and ride three miles from my house as I waited for Leah to get off a bus. The two photographs below (of a hummingbird and a wild yellow violet) are recent images from our yard.
As I’ve become aware of the impact my car’s emissions have on the environment and on the health of those around me, I find that I drive less and less. I tend to stick closer to home, and tomorrow, I, for one, plan to honor Earth Day by leaving my car parked in my driveway.
