"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible." ~ T. E. Lawrence
It’s both as west as west can get, and as north as north can be, at least within the contiguous United States. On a road trip along the Olympic Peninsula with my youngest brother two summers ago, we wanted to see the northwesternmost point of the “Lower 48” (that’s Alaskan parlance for continental U.S.). The road had more twists and turns than a web of lies. And the Olympic Peninsula was keeping up to its reputation as one of the rainiest places in Washington. That’s saying something! But finally we arrived at the end of Cape Loop Road and the beginning of a short boardwalk trail that led us through rain-leaden forest to the very edge of America. Thick tendrils of fog hemmed us in and tried to obstruct our view of nearby Tatoosh Island with its Cape Flattery Lighthouse. Here the Pacific Ocean and the wind have carved deep and jagged coves into the earth, as though the continent is only holding place by finger-grasp. It’s breathtakingly untamable, a little frightening, and completely awe-inspiring. To peer over those cliffs and see the crashing, churning gray waves below was a rush. If felt like standing on the edge of the world. The wind and rain pelted my face so I could hardly see, the fog chilled deep into my bones, wild and raw beauty surrounding me, and I loved that this place was untouched. Mountains are for climbing, seas are for diving, our world is for exploring – and I’m glad we can’t master their wildness, only revel in it.