Hoh River, Olympic National Park
Through slender red alder trees, a three-quarter moon rises high above the Hoh River, illuminating the rushing current. In a pool alogside the shore, a moon-face reflects back to me, a mirror into the deepest parts of me.
What shines back? What spills into the pools of moonlight, I'm not quite sure. But I feel myself more like the waters of the Hoh. Unending, never stopping. Going forward downstream, collecting driftwood, rounding stones. Rising and falling along an ancient glacial valley, reflecting stars, red-shine of Mars, the glow of the moon. Tonight. Tomorrow. And every night forward.
The moon tells me so. And in her reflection, this midnight on the Hoh River, I believe her. Whole heartedly. It is a gift to sit here on her riverbanks.