[Port Angeles to Seattle – stuck in my journal April 2013]
I sat behind a lady on the right hand side of the minibus her hair was grey, cropped and curled tight like my grandmas. I spent three hours staring out the window, staring at the mountains and the trees meant for tales of giants and gypsies, and then taking a breath I stared back at the the top of her head over the grey, embroidered bus seat. A dose of reality in the fairytale landscape I passed through. I left my raincoat on the bus, the weather was warm, the first hint of spring, my head was in the clouds of Mt Rainer.
Ironic maybe, but now that I’ve moved just north of that bus route I’m only a little mad at myself for being so distracted by the pacific northwest.