Transitions

Mary and I are definitely going through some life changes. Daughter One graduating and going off to start her life, Daughter Two not coming home for the summer for the first time so she can do research at her college. Changes at work, not all for the better.

We’re looking at finally putting in landscaping that will last for as long as we’re here. I’m trying to overcome inertia and finally finish my B degree. Medical stuff, aging stuff. Seems like everything’s changing.

We went on a day trip today to recover that parka that I’d brilliantly managed to leave in a hotel room most of the way across the state. We had to drive through the mountains, which took us along the edge of Keechelus Lake. The lake is going through some changes of its own. Most of it is open water just now, although there are still some areas of ice on the Hyak end. It’s a shallow reservoir, and during the winter months, its surface is frozen - or not - in response to the weather on an almost weekly basis. And of course, being a reservoir, the area it covers expands and contracts as the water level goes up and down. As it contracts, the water line recedes, exposing the stumps of the forest that used to occupy the valley.  

The appearance of the lake is transformed again and again over the cycles of freeze and snow coverage, snow melt, drawn down to provide drinking water to the cities below, then rains and freeze and the cycle repeats.

The avalanche hazard areas by the snow shed are now largely mudslides but the ski runs and top peaks are all still covered in snow. For the moment, anyway.

Through the Yakima Valley, past Zillah and Toppenish to theTri-Cities there are miles and miles of farms with crops in all stages from fallow to full bloom. The alfalfa fields are already lush but the bean frames stand empty and rather forlorn looking.  

The road crews are working at full tilt and I hope they make a visit soon to the five or six miles through Snoqualmie pass where almost all the lane markings have been scoured away by winter ice, sand, and snowplows.

Everything is changing and I love it all.

As we drove, Mary and I talked about change. About the type of place we’d like to retire to, and what we’d like to do next with the house we currently occupy.  About how we’d like to spend holidays and vacations and days off.  It’s entirely different making such plans for just ourselves.

With the girls off on their own life pursuits, we’re cycling back to our days in the Donner house in Fresno, where we were last just a couple. I’m looking forward to what the future will bring.

Change can definitely be a good thing.