12:21 AM, 8-12-08
Well, we’ve arrived. We tried to camp at fort worden but it was full. I’m a little upset that the online reservation system failed on me. Ah well. We’re at the next closest state park: Old Fort Townsend State Park. From what I can tell, it’s probably the second worst park I’ve ever been to. Maybe the third. I stayed in a state park by a jail and a lumber yard in Tennessee (I think). I also stayed at a Flintstones themed park which was pretty terrible. But never one so near a 24 hour paper mill. The noise is constant. The light pollution will be detrimental to our meteor viewing in a couple hours. Which reminds me, I should go to sleep for a bit. Riding the ferry reminded me of Bremerton. Driving through Port Gamble reminded me of the trip to Neah Bay. There’s always something…
I’ll update this as the adventure continues.
5:07 AM, 8-12-08
Meteors are the best thing ever. Set the alarm for 2 AM. Woke up around 2:30ish. Woke the BFF from her earplug protected slumber and set out my sleeping pad to watch the glory for the next two and a half hours. The highlight of the evening was definitely the double meteor that was super bright. There were a few extra long ones as well. Pretty amazing. Once, a very large bat flew straight overhead. I thought it was going to eat my face off. But there were so many meteors that it wouldn’t have mattered. Even huddling for warmth under a sleeping bag doesn’t seem so bad when there’s an average of a few meteors every minute. It also helps to be hanging out with an excellent conversationalist when there’s a lull in the action.
I’m so glad I accepted this invitation and suggested the meteor watching. But now that the sun is starting to rise, it’s time to attempt to gain an extra hour or four of sleep before the activities tomorrow. Right now, I think I might even try to go to the reception. Perhaps I’m invincible. Perhaps I’m a loony.
3:08 PM, 8-12-08
The thing I like about these old forts is all the buildings. The paint on the concrete is fading from orange and grey to just grey and spots of moss. It’s like all that we’ve built to mess up what is freely given will one day be erased by the everpresent erosion brought by the waves of the open ocean. And as the sand fleas are all hopping around and Canada is staring at me from across the straight of Juan de Fuca, I can’t help but smile about the fact that everything we do is just temporary. The realization that nothing I could ever hope to have forever will be here forever. Whether my perceived permanence is painful or glorious, it is not permanent at all. If I no longer want it, I just have to wait. If I want it forever, it’s not possible and I should enjoy the fleeting, shooting star happiness I’ve obtained while I can. Instead of attempting to create permanence I should have been spending all my time relishing the beauty that I was able to be a part of for such a short time before the waves eroded it and just this empty, grey, shell of a building is left. While it could be rebuilt, the waves will just tear it down again. There’s no hope in planning for permanence because none exists. Simply enjoy this beach and the cold air and a packed lunch and a walk to that rock on the point there and the sounds of the waves eroding everything painful. Maybe not for the last time, but nothing is permanent.
11:22 PM, 8-12-08
Well, the adventure is near it’s end. We’re on the ferry back to Edmonds. I survived the wedding reception and did some serious explorations of the military installation. In all, the adventure was awesome and my BFF was excellent company. I’m glad I accepted the invitation.