Dense air sinks into my lungs out here, it crawls up my body and clokes my hands; the fog hovers above the oceans and hangs into the trees. Bellingham, WA is a cloud: one i’ve found myself living.
At the head of my bed is the window of my room, in my purple house. It looks out on the aging power-lines in the back ally, past our frosted backyard, and through the clouds that sun peaks through; a surprise that rocks my eyelids back while I lay in my warm bed postponing the day. I have become use to waking up to layers of grey piling from the concrete and draping from my skyline to the ocean, but lately the sun has been chasing the clouds.
It turns out being in a cloud is just what I needed to finish 2015. Starting this year in New Zealand in their height of summer, feeling the ozone-less sun beams sink years into my smiles, to spending a Spring and Summer in Vermont, to finishing the summer off and starting the fall in California to finally settling in Bellingham. I’ve had a lot of sun this year.
Long days filled with sunshine pouring onto me while casting on the rivers in New Zealand to the sun that greeted me after sitting at my desk at Alpinist. Being in blue skies my thoughts and all stability feels a need to explore every inch of that sky. It’s like Spring in Vermont when it reaches 50 degrees after months of 20 below and you feel your chest open and your back straighten. Sunshine and blue skies let my brain explore the world. It’s invigorating and also exhausting.
Being in a cloud I have begun to see through a microscope. The sinking clouds let me see what I’m doing rather then what the world is doing.
Looking back at 2015 I have no idea how it all happened. Now that I’m back from New Zealand people ask me why I went or what I did and I still haven’t found an answer. I decided to quickly to go, arrived with less then no plans, and somehow found the most amazing places, people and thoughts I’ve ever seen all because the blue skies of California shared its sun with New Zealand.
What brought me home was an internship at Alpinist Magazine. My dream magazine. I use to collect issues in boarding school and flip through the pages during study hall dreaming of being in the Himalayas, Andes and in the Sierras; being lost in the snow and ice that my mentors suffered in before me. Seven years later and after adventures and a fluctuating relationship with climbing there I was in Jeffersonville, Vermont. Writing and working with the people who created my dreams growing up. Interviewing my idols and in the end having a piece of my own for people to read while they flip through the pages of the Alpinist.
After creating dreams, finding ideas, thoughts and accomplishing them I somehow I ended up in an amazing home in Bellingham, WA. The moment I walked through the doors here I wanted to sink into the old floor boards and never leave. The windows are big, the walls are aged, and the kitchen is trimmed with a blue. Up the creaking stairs I have my own room. Closing the door and dropping my bag in my new room was a feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time. When I worked at Alpinist I lived at home but except for that I haven’t had my own room since I was 18 and subletting in Burlington. This Lavender home filled with three amazing people is the best way to live in this cloud.
This cloud hides the sun, makes me forget I’m surrounded my mountains and doesn’t let me see open. Stars, blue, sun and sunsets. It does let me sink into my home and feel my thoughts dance through me as I plan my next step in blue skies.