Backstory: Vista"

Hurricane Ridge, located on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State has always been a special destination but especially so when my son was growing up. My parents helped me raise him from the age of two since I was a single parent and had difficulty making it on my own.

This arrangement provided many benefits, including camping trips and one of our favorite locations was Hurricane Ridge. The view from the lodge area is spectacular – the elevation of the ridge brings visitors at almost eye-level with the Olympic mountains. By the time the road is cleared of snow, there is often little snow on the mountains as well.

We often encountered deer, marmots, and even a bear once (from a distance) as we meandered the many trails that spread out from the parking lot.

Our visits were so regular that I have multiple photos taken of my son as he grew in roughly the same location with the mountains in the background. Unfortunately, this was before digital cameras or camera phones so I do not currently have access to share these photos but I will try to remember to edit this post later and add those.

My dad was the silent type, but he loved the outdoors and provided a positive male role model for my son.

In this picture, they are on the opposite side of the ridge from the lodge, with the peninsula spread out like a patchwork below them. My dad had his binoculars and had been using them to see if he could pick out Whidbey Island (our home base).

On the side of the island facing us is a unique vee where the tree line dips dramatically. This is known to a few locals as Cedar Hollow. That would have been what my dad was looking for.

I imagine he located Cedar Hollow, then handed the binoculars to my son so he could look too.

When I look at this mosaic, I see not only the vista that stretches away before them, but I see my dad – set in his ways and uncomfortable with words – offering a part of himself to my son.

I see my son learning about the world in practical ways, like how binoculars work and the geography of locations. But I also see the bond between them, unspoken but being built strand by invisible strand.

Thanks, Dad!

This mosaic is for sale (currently on display at The Lucky Dumpster in Edison, Washington) and prints are available as well both at The Lucky Dumpster and on Pictorem.