Icons.
We all have them. Physical objects that represent higher truths.
Mt. Hood is one of mine.
More than just the tallest mountain in Oregon, it is my icon of home.
Boy Scout camp. Family tubing. Skiing. Partying. For 22 years, it was my playground.
Then the Air Force called. For five years I left Oregon. My visits home were infrequent. But whenever my plane would approach PDX, I first looked for that distinctive almost-dormant volcano to welcome me back.
When I fly home from Manzanillo these days, I do not see Mt Hood. The flight arrives at PDX around midnight. Even the vampire-late sunlight of Oregon summer does not stay bright that late.
On this trip north, my brother drove my mother and me to Bend for Christmas.
I know the route. And the scenery. But seeing Mt. Hood was as thrilling as the first time I saw it.
I am home -- for now.
We all have them. Physical objects that represent higher truths.
Mt. Hood is one of mine.
More than just the tallest mountain in Oregon, it is my icon of home.
Boy Scout camp. Family tubing. Skiing. Partying. For 22 years, it was my playground.
Then the Air Force called. For five years I left Oregon. My visits home were infrequent. But whenever my plane would approach PDX, I first looked for that distinctive almost-dormant volcano to welcome me back.
When I fly home from Manzanillo these days, I do not see Mt Hood. The flight arrives at PDX around midnight. Even the vampire-late sunlight of Oregon summer does not stay bright that late.
On this trip north, my brother drove my mother and me to Bend for Christmas.
I know the route. And the scenery. But seeing Mt. Hood was as thrilling as the first time I saw it.
I am home -- for now.
