Snoqualmie Falls


On September 4, 2016, I went to see Snoqualmie Falls with a few friends. When we found a parking spot, which was its own adventure, we noticed this large snowplow.


Rusted and broken down, it stood as a testament to the ingenuity of man. This snowplow helped to clear of snow the tracks for lumber cars during Seattle’s youth. Still rather unfamiliar with snow, it amazes me that such a large plow would be needed.

The beginning of the falls

After a bit of a hike, we reached the falls. There were many other pilgrims there, each wanting to take photos of the falls as the mist sprinkled our heads.

The surrounding forest

I found myself wondering if the water droplets that flew in the air after the initial plunge down the falls kept the forest green.

The Falls

The mist reminded me of dragon’s breath and I could have sworn a wyren lived behind the falls.

The River

Such power followed by such calm.

Mini Jet of Water underneath a Mountain

More proof of man’s hand.

The adventure was short but gave me plenty to think. How do hydroelectric plants provide us with electricity? Have the falls been negatively affected by tourists? If so, is there a way of reversing the damage? What stories do these falls hold? How many winters and springs have they seen?

I will return to them eventually, but for now I am enjoying the electric heat of my laptop and the sun beaming down from my window.

Adventures In Edmonds, WA

As mentioned in a previous post, you have to live to write and (for writers) write to live. The two are inseparable. So, I decided today was and exploration day. I picked a random park here my home and went for a mini-hike.

The park in question was…

My hike lasted on 30 minutes because the trail was pretty short and lead to residential areas. Also, I got hungry… But, there are many other trails to explore and I most definitely will be back soon.

The trees were huge and majestic. Some reached so high that I could barely make out the canopy. Others reminded me of the om, the idea of the continously echoing sound of the universe. Where one tree ends, another begins.

The local residents, however, reminded me that civilization and human impact have left their mark. This park was not as wild as I had hoped. There were sewer drains and manholes hidden under fallen pine needles. There were scattered pieces of trash here and there. But what was most disturbing to me was the ducks.

Animals, wild ones, usually run from me. I took it as part of their wildness and intellect. I would be afraid if a strange bipedal creature with large eyes and a light box came up to me to. But these ducks…

These cuterms guys followed me! Out of no where I heard the fluttering of ducks and the splash of their bodis hitting the pond. They must have heard me as I approached the pond. I took a look and saw 8 then 10 then 15 ducks heading my way. I started to back away as I realized that these ducks… have been unintentionally domesticated. So, I ran off but not before taking a quick pic of my duck chasers.

I then stumbled on an invasive species…

A bridge over a dry creek bed…

And the not-scary-at-all-tube-tunnel..

Nope not horror-movie-fuel at all. Nope…

And yes, I went through it. I held my phone out to light the path. The tunnel lead me to…

The street. I was so disappointed I didn’t bother to photograph this moment. I saw a Canada Dry can left by the other end of the tunnel and that was it.

All and all, my little hike did allow me to experience tempered nature in my new home town. I hope to explore more of Washington in the coming days.

Happy reading and happy writing my fellow dragons.

First Poetry Reading in Washington


Hello my Lovelies!

After a long four months of settling into my new home, finding a bed, assembling evil Ikea furniture, etc …  I knew I had to find where local writers and poets hang out and meet each other. Through the website, MeetUp, I was able to find several poetry events in and around the Seattle Area.  Tonight, I went to the February Poetry Night even at Tsuga Fine Art & Framing. The owner, Ken (whose last name escapes me like so many nouns) and his wife host the event at 7pm on the 2nd Saturday of each month.

Tonight, the feature poet was Francie E. Walls. As her biography states, Ms. Walls has worked as an English teacher, college librarian, library director and professional photographer. Her poems appear in the book, Writing Across Cultures: A Handbook on Writing Poetry and Lyrical Prose, and magazines such as Pontoon, Arnazella, PoetsWest Literary Journal, and the RedWing Anthology. She has traveled around the United States and to Africa, Cuba, England, Wales, Ireland, Europe and the Middle East.

But, most of all, her poems are beautiful.

She opened the night with a theme and a goal — she was taking us to places we have never been before.

And she did. Vivid, poignant, expressive, and moving, Ms. Walls’s poetry often kept me from taking notes. The first poem, “Chrysanthemum Cafe” plucked me from my notebook and sat me into a lovely cafe with a tea called blue people. She wrote about deserts and circus and child birth and death with such a deft hand that I wondered if she had speaking from first hand experience.

Ms. Walls set the mood for the night and each poet that read afterwards was a joy. Many of the poets were established (published) writers. Talia Jin, a young poet, performed a spoken word piece called “Cigarettes” and read her poem “Sound of my Planet,” which was inspired by the sounds of planets as recorded by Nasa. Terry Bush, like many of the older poets, spoke about the desert and the lack of rain (while it was raining outside). He also read a beautiful Valentines Day poem, which was dedicated to his wife.

Kevin O’Conner read several love poems. In one there is an equation 1 + 1 = ∞ when you are in love. A line that stood out was “What does math have to do with love?” I enjoy his wit and his honesty.

There were many other poets and writers of note at the event. If you are ever in the Bothell, WA on the 2nd Saturday of the month, stop by this event.

I do plan on attending again.

Until next time, my lovelies.

Peace, love, and pancakes.