Sunny Juxtaposition

 Somewhere east of Soggy Saddle and a tad west of the source of the formerly clean Whatcom County drinking waters, there lives a spot named Devastation Divide. Otherwise called Annihilation Alley. But probably best known as Obliteration Overlook. It's here you can look out at a mountain made of dolomite. And within the same view you can see 6 clear cuts and a five-stepped terrace carved into the side of the mountain. A mining operation. To obliterate whatever's still left East of East Soggy Saddle.

It's here that a modern Indian came out of the woods. Chainsaw in one hand, a warm can of Rainier in the other. "Did you see that wild, black, scary creature darting through the trees?" he asked me.

 "Yes, that was the Lu," was my only response.  

 He smiled knowingly and headed in the opposite direction. 

Kirstenia and I continued on. Up and down. The road was decommissioned, gulleys of earth yanked out of the hillside. We didn't know where we were going, but we were going there for sure. Going through mindless space etched into a useless landscape.

We walked past a scene from Deliverance. A man with a bandoleer wrapped around his chest was laying face-first in the muck and firing his machine gun at what once was a stump. All around us a civil war on the proportions of Central America in the mid-80s. Machine gun reports rattling off the rocks. A grenade launcher was hucking projectiles into a  dishwasher. A 2003 Panasonic 30" wide screen riddled with bullet holes. Too small...the TV that is. Thrown off a pick-up truck during the last heat wave. 

But we had to search for the source. What's been eluding us all these years. That glowing cave in the woods that emits a light--warm, brilliant, the perfect temperature that evokes a knowing bliss. The Source of Everything. All of the world's mysteries unraveled. But it remained hidden beyond our imagination. Beyond anything we could ever hope for.

So we kept on keeping on. And keep on keeping on. 

Time for a Council with the ravens. We stopped in a large circle, full of light. Made all the lighter by all the trees felled around us. Small trees raised on herbicides and shotgun shells surrounded us. And we sat for a picnic of leftover half-baked salmon with a light mayonnaise spread on gluten full bread. The dogs surrounded us.  

We sat and thought of the man who wasn't with us. Sitting on Desolation Row. A knife in the back. The Council of the Trees told us he'd be there again. On some high cold mountain range. He'd be there. Always there. And our thoughts were with him. Sitting in that Council of lost trees. 

You just can't exaggerate that stuff.

Almost complete destruction.