In these times of frenzy, whimsey and complete lack of serious thought by our betters, a serious person who takes responsibility and soldiers on despite regret for being so stupid in such an age, must decompress now and then.
The Red Headed Irish Wisecracker and I paid a visit to the northern grandchildren last weekend, and decided to do a minimum vacation on the drive home. We drove the circuit at Mount Rainer National Park , stayed at a friendly motel off the interstate and then paid a long overdue visit to Mount Saint Helens.
The day was hot. The skies were amazingly clear for the Pacific Northwest, with almost no clouds at all, showing a striking deep blue. We ascended to the 4200 foot elevation of the Johnson Observatory overlooking the blast crater.
Both festooned with cameras, binoculars, sunglasses and water bottles, we stood in awe at the remnants of Mother Natures Tactical Nuke.
If you look closely, you may make out the active vent in the middle of the crater spewing the Earth’s indigestion.
Thirty nine years ago, the mountain top blew with a 24 megaton force that covered hundreds of miles around in ash.
Today, the plants and animals have returned. Elk slept in the noonday sun, the timber is ready for harvest after the replantings have now come full cycle, birds sing and squirrels scavenge from the tourists.
It tends to make you take things a bit less seriously and accept your part in the flow of events way beyond your control.