Not every desert is a Sahara or a place of giant cacti. The interior Pacific Northwest is a prime example. Its dry grasses rattle like swords in the unobstructed wind.

~*~

It’s the background for some of my novels and poetry now appearing at Thistle/Flinch editions. To read more, click here.

The Olympic Peninsula of Washington State is a world of its own. About the size of Delaware, it has few settlements apart from its Native American tribes. Its remote coastline is gorgeous. Its forests are thick and varied and receive some of the heaviest annual rainfall in North America. Its central mountains include hot springs and glaciers. There’s a U.S. Navy base on the eastern edge along with an artist colony and ferry connections to Seattle.

Listen closely and the underlying mythologies shape a new understanding.

Here is a place where East meets West in its own nature.

~*~

For a free copy of the complete American Olympus, click here.

The conditions that created the desert where we lived created what was sometimes called a “rain shadow.” It was ironic, actually, considering that we got far more sunlight by living on that side of the Cascade Mountains than if we’d been in, what, the rain glow?

Sometimes, though, it seemed to dry up all of our emotions, too.

A journey into the murky places of endless fog, mist, and rain, in contrast, could do wonders in the soul.

~*~

For a free copy of the complete American Olympus, click here.