My boyfriend and I are in a mad rush to see everything in the area before we flee this part of the country for good. Which means I've seen a large collection of sites recently in a incredibly short amount of time. Which is not a bad deal, when you think about it.
Last week we went to Mt. St. Helens. We do these trips in a kind of frenzied rush, hurrying to see everything we want to see and do everything we can while still getting home at a semi-reasonable hour. What was really interesting for me about this trip is that I remember when the volcano erupted in 1980, even though I was only 3 1/2. I can only imagine that my intensely morbid turn of mind was permanently imprinted with the human tragedy and devastation even at such a young age. I distinctly remember hearing that the volume of ash would affect the sunsets, and my childish mind thought that it would be that way forever, that the sunsets would never be the same.
I guess that was and wasn't true. Like any disaster, for some people, the sunsets are never the same, right?
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