Despite my coaxing, Anne seldom posts here. The view is of course quite different from her window on Tripp’s right side. But what really excites me is looking at the world through her heart and eye, because we see even an identical scene so differently. So since I love seeing what she sees, here are a few of her pix from the first leg of our flight back home from Seattle. Taking off from Renton, ATC cleared me North for a tour of the city before turning South toward home.
As we approached, she got the first clear view when I turned West to cross the lake. Having lived for years in the Seattle area, what was kindled in her heart when she took in this spectacular new view of it now? Was she also recalling the enchanted walk we’d enjoyed with a dear longtime friend near the lakeshore at bottom-right a few days before?
Tomorrow I’ll probably share a few of my pix as we jogged North and West again to pass North of the city. Today though, another of Anne’s pix as we later flew across nearby Vashon Island for a look at their grass strip and the home of friends from the past whom we recently reconnected with. Near the airport, she noticed this intriguing junkyard.
Often a once free ranging airplane ends up in the weeds mingling with old vehicles and equipment like this. Even more than the lovely derelict house with turret and each of the items scattered about, for me the plane (possibly a Beech 23 named N2382Q) triggers story fantasies. I’d have missed this scene and the reverie it triggers from my side of Tripp.
Back on course toward home as we crossed the channel nearing Tacoma, she snapped these strange patterns in the water.
We wondered aloud what could make for such unusual streaks of color. Then she snapped this that I couldn’t see at all.
Looks to me like a pulp plant might be involved in the color difference, where brown and green mingle to create those subtle currents of color out in the channel. After a brief fun stop in Aurora, OR to see my sister and her hubby, Anne spotted what looks like a tree nursery. Each row of saplings has responded differently to the approach of Winter. By cropping it thinly like this, I can easily lose the context of what it “is” to allow a magical nameless impression of color and texture.
To me there is deep beauty in differences. Diversity in all its forms intrigues me, and is surely one aspect of Anne’s pix that evokes an emotional enjoyment for me.
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