There are two kinds of silence at play in my life:

• Breathe deep and enjoy the incredible beauty of the world.
• Situations that flabbergast me into silence because I can’t find words to express my feelings.

The first silence:

I arrived home from a few days in Paradise (at Mount Rainier). No cell coverage or WiFi just wild flowers and mountains, fresh air and sunshine, waterfalls…and, of course mosquitoes.

Rosy spirea.

Mountain at dusk.

Edith Creek and Mount Rainier.

Heather.

Magenta Indian Paintbrush.

Lewis Monkey Flower

Heather and the Mountain.

Magenta Indian Paintbrush and the Tatoosh Range.

Jeffrey’s Shooting Star.

Myrtle Falls

Lupine.

Orange Indian Paintbrush.

Even though there were quite a few bugs at Paradise, getting home is overrated.

The second silence:

The first post I read when I got home was this one, about the situation of the children taken from their families at our border.

The ugliness and nastiness of children’s situation is an example of the…I don’t know the right word(s) for it…that so often silences me these days.

I am in the set of people who has no voice because my representatives do, in fact, represent my views. I can, and did, send some feedback about the children, but a freshman congress woman from a notoriously progressive district is not going to be listened to in the other Washington (D.C.).

What kind of crazy is this?

I feel like some kind of multiple personality disorder is being shoved down my throat. Am I a calm woman on a mountain being mindful of the scent of the flowers, the sound of water tumbling down, and the bright colorful charm of flowers and the majesty of the mountain? Or am I mindful of current events? Being ready to scream with frustration by having no say or way to make a difference and allowing my heart to be wrung by the thought of children taken from their families, the destruction of wildfires, earthquakes, etc.

I can’t be both at once, and yet that is the world I live in.