Firewalking

Rainier is boldly displaying her mantle of white this morning, and wearing her cumulus hat proudly, probably hiding the mother ship.

We had the daffodil festival recently; big deal, parade and all. From Sumner, on a clear day, you can touch Mt. Rainier.

Easter in the Northwest dawned foggy and chilled, and everywhere sunrise services and children searching for Easter eggs lamented

Spring has pulled on her gray shawl this morning, and even the fire mountains cannot cajole her to lift it.

Early afternoon and she appears wearing too many hats, perhaps setting a new spring fashion.

She sat above the clouds this morning with raspberries running down her ridges.

Rainier has a little brother, Mt. Adams, surrounded by wilderness and forest service roads, one has to work hard to get near its shoulders.

St. Helens was sad not to be able to wear her cap in honor of the royal wedding this morning, so she just wore a veil and stood in the back.

I run with fire demons. They answer to the names Shasta, Hood, St. Helens, Adams, Rainier, and Baker.

We rose with the dawn, gassed up my SUV, and headed south/southeast to visit Mt. Adams today; sunshine was glorious, but all the forest service roads had too much snow on them still; another month to try again.

Mt. Baker stands furthest north of us, gateway to the Canadian cousins, but no less regal than her Southern siblings

There is a vortex along River Road, and another just atop the 410 route to Bonny Lake, where Mt. Rainier leans closer, teasing for an embrace.