The Olympic Coast, under near constant cover of clouds and rain:
A very Twilight photo capsule
Written from my home in Seattle on 10.04.2022
-
A trip made of dreams... mostly shot on Fujifilm 35mm (Kodak Portra 400) and iPhone.
In late August, some longtime Chicago friends of mine visited the PNW, and we made our way down to one of the most beautiful places along the west coast (or, dare I say, in the entirety of the states) - the Olympic Peninsula. The vast wilderness of Olympic National Park, from its misty rainforests to its towering mountains, made for an absolute dream. Three trips later, and this rugged coast has now become one of my favourite places in the world.
-
-
We began our journey by hiking through Hoh Rainforest, one of the handful of rainforests native to the United States. We followed its meandering trails, dancing through the spots of sunlight that made it through the dense canopy of Japanese maples, Douglas firs, and Sitka spruces above - pure magic. The air was cool and damp, carrying an earthy scent of moss and decaying vegetation. Every twist and turn revealed new wonders - nurse logs cloaked in iridescent green ferns, babbling creeks singing songs of their own secret language, and towering trees draped in curtains of lichen housing curious, friendly critters. That day felt like stepping into another world, only tethered to reality by the familiar comfort of the day's eventual PNW rain. I recall coming across a quote describing this exact feeling of comfort that the PNW brings by BC-based designer, Douglas Coupland:
"The richness of the rain made me feel safe; I have always considered the rain to be healing — a blanket — the comfort of a friend."
-
-
The next chapter of this mossy fairytale brought us to the Pacific coast at La Push. The beach here stretched seemingly endlessly in both directions, its silvery sands unperturbed by humans tanning by the beach and instead met only by the crashing waves of the Sound. Dramatic sea stacks rose from its turbulent waters like ancient sentinels. As evening light began to paint the sky in warm hues of orange and pink, eventually morphing into the starriest night I'd seen in years (shoutout CA/WA/Chicago light pollution), we started up a fire and prepared our dinner, laughing remembering stories from our college days over a much-awaited bubbling kimchi-jjigae and jammy apple pie.
At first morning light
-
The next morning, we woke to the sun's first rays peeking over the horizon and a family of deer grazing along the coast. They blended into the bush so well that if you weren't looking, you'd miss them. It was a moment of pure tranquility - a reminder that there's beauty all around us, if only we stop to look.
-
Until next time...
-
After spending the next several days frolicking up and down the coast, the time to return home had unfortunately arrived. As I reluctantly packed my duffel and headed back into the city, I felt a profound sense of gratitude that I got to live out this mossy dream with people I hold so dearly. The Olympic coast had cast its spell on us, leaving me with memories laced with its magic that will stay with me for years to come. Until next time, the Olympic coast – we'll be dreaming of your emerald forests and rugged shores, just as John Muir said best:
"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like fall leaves."
-
P.S. By the way, the drive there and back was absolutely insane...
P.P.S. And of course we had to do a pitstop in Forks, WA - home to
everyone's favourite vampires...
