Flapjack Lake

We are here on the Olympic Peninsula enamored by the beauty that surrounds us. It’s absolutely amazing how much of God’s wonderful artwork exists in Washington State. As I absorb the air and witness the absolute size of the Puget Sound, I am grateful, puzzled and wonderfully entranced by this spectacular design. Why would all this beauty be entrusted to us? Does nature truly believe that we are capable of protecting and conserving its magnificent resources? It has to be from love. That's the only conclusion that holds any water. There would be no other reason to endow us with such gifts if the feeling didn't spring from love. The ocean of water reflects the sunlight and produces a radiance, suggesting that there is more beauty and substance hidden beyond the form. 

 

Trying to describe God or Mother Nature seems futile. We are limited by our language, so we cannot really describe exactly what we see or experience. Our descriptions of things are limited by our senses. And our senses are incapable of completely processing the amount of information that exist in this limitless world. There's much more that we absorb, take in, than we will ever know. We see forms, objects, but not the real nature of things. We often see nature’s beauty when we dream. To really see the world as is, we have to dream or die. It is the only way to completely see the true forms of the universe. 

An eagle flies over the water. It looks my way as if to say, “I hear you brother.” It continues to fly over the ocean and slowly disappears into the trees as if entering a new dimension. The eagle is happy that it has returned home across the horizon—as we continue to drive through the rainfall; the horizon is full of water. The water gods are happy. It’s their time to play. The eagle returns from across the water. He joins the water gods in play and dances to the music permeating above the surface of the water. The eagle is overwhelmed with laughter. I look over at him. And, once again, he flies away. 

 

We pull up onto the driveway. There are several places to camp as well as to hike. We decide to head towards Flapjack Lake. It's an 8 miles round trip. We didn't anticipate hiking in the snow, but the ground is white as we maneuver through the path. We cross over a well-designed and beautifully constructed large river with Rocky Mountains and tremendously large trees all wishing it was summer again. The temperature outside is below 40*F; it's cold outside. I'm wearing two layers of pants and four layers of uppers for protection from the elements. The eagle spots me again as I crossed the bridge. He yells, “what are you doing?” Before I can answer, he flies off again towards the North End of the River looking back, smiling as he ventures through the trees. I'm not sure why he keeps reappearing then disappearing. He's never with another companion but always seems in a pleasant mood. I take a few pictures and a short video of the River. The eagle disappears.

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