There is a slow itch that starts to build under my skin. The need to be outside. It's not until I drag myself into the woods that I finally feel content and calm. Westport was beautiful, cold, and quiet. There's a different kind of summer in the northwest. The air is damp and crisp. The wind bites at your ankles. Never too hot. Never too cold. Always just right.
For the fourth of July, twenty of my closest friends and I drove east to Cle Elum for the long weekend. Visits to eastern Washington are always a treat. The clouds part over the mountains and it's forest as far as the eye can see.
We spent those few precious vacation days lounging by the lake and consuming inordinate amounts of food. The time in the sun did us all some good before jumping straight back into the next work week.
Although, there was a small hiccup, in which a group of my friends almost drowned while tubing down the river. Luckily, they were alive, albeit greatly shaken at the end of that particular day.