Yesterday the National Parks entrance fees were waived for the Veterans Day holiday, so I decided it would be a great time to drive up to Mount Rainier. For years I used to have mountain dreams: each one was different, but the theme was climbing or ascending a mountain. Usually in the "graphics" part of the dream, there wasn't much to the mountain; I wasn't ascending the peak. More recently the dreams were more specifically of Mount Rainier, although still not realistic. I was never quite sure what the symbolism was--achievement or accomplishment, or some more mystical goal.
I decided to make a "pilgrimage" to Paradise, the highest spot on the Western aspect of the mountain that can be reached by driving. I wanted to say prayers, maybe take a hike or walk. I had a time deadline to be home so I could attend the Holy Day observance of the Birth of Baha'u'llah held on campus at the University of Puget Sound. From the south end of Tacoma it took from 1145 to 1400 or so to drive up there. The distance is not so far, but with the winding roads it takes longer. The weather was dry and mostly sunny, which made a terrific drive.
I took some photos after I passed the park entrance, of the mountain with the top shrouded in fog, and of some nice little waterfalls in the sunshine. The road became covered in spots with frozen slush and I dithered about continuing, but I had come so far, so I continued. Just short of Paradise I encountered a Cascade Fox in the road, looking at me with a "where's my treat?" expression. I discovered later it is a member of a family which hangs out and begs for handouts. It's unfortunate that this behavior is reinforced, but otherwise I probably wouldn't have seen it.
Paradise was spectacular in the snow. I stood and turned 360 degrees taking photos. Every needle on every branch on every conifer was coated in snow. Fog lent a mystical atmosphere to the area. Families and children were sledding, building snowmen and trading snowballs. Indoors I watched the educational movie, then in my car I read the Tablet of Ahmad before heading back as it started to snow, small round rapid flakes. I emerged refreshed. I think I drove about 154 miles round trip.
I still don't know the "meaning" of my mountain dreams, but I have a feeling they relate to the unfoldment of whatever I was meant to become. And it's nice to look at the Mountain, when it's visible, and remember when I had a clearer, closer view.
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2 comments:
I have filmed that fox; glad to know he/she is still alive.
I think there's a whole family of them that hangs out there, according to Park staff. Some have, unfortunately, been run over in the past.
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