Friday, May 29th
Maybe this is a good thing.
Still now, just a little over two months since my visit, this is a hard post to compose. The emotions are still high as I look over my pictures and remember how it felt driving to Mount St. Helens. Stopping at the visitor centers (there are a plenty) brought new insight to this Midwesterner/transplanted Southerner's memories.
Maybe knowing little helped me gain more in the end.
It was majestic, yet sobering. Life had sprouted again along destruction's pathway, but had been forever changed.
I could not get enough of the beauty of the mountain itself. There were tears in my eyes when driving closer finally brought the North face into view. The missing peak replaced by a mile wide crater came into view and I was mesmerized. Could not take my eyes away from the mountain. In that moment I wondered how it felt for the locals who had this glorious mountain in their daily view to see it one day and not the next...or whenever the ash cleared enough for them to see it again.
It broke my heart.
Never expected this reaction.
Not at all.
It was a glorious day to see a magnificent mountain, nevertheless.
Beauty is continuing to rise from the ashes.