Mountain View: Mt. Baker and Cyclops 7/15/25

Where I live, Mt. Baker is my driving distraction. When I drop Sassy off for doggy daycare and sometimes in those early morning when the sun is rising over this mountain and for the thousandths time I stop, take a picture and remind myself how much I love this mountain. I don't get tired of this view. I don't take it for granted and when the clouds drape her snow covered flanks, I miss her. She probably should be a he in that the name is Mr. Baker but she seems more she.  There are colors and drama and snow and clouds. Her crisp, clean outline dominates our eastern sky.  Mt. Baker is the mountain of my adult years. 

Cyclops, on the other hand, is the mountain of my youth. He dominated our northern sky and stood brooding, menacing at times, mysterious and jungled. In his folded arms was a waterfall that trickled in the dry season and thundered loudly in the wet. I also loved this mountain, he stood a silent barrier to the ocean on the other side and in my youth held stories of wrecked WW2 airplanes and secret societies. When a thunder storm rolled in the sound echoed off his huge presence and more then once caused a little panic. When the sun set, the colors spread behind him like a crown of bird of paradise feathers.  When he was draped in clouds we were in for a cool day in our normal tropical hot and his absence was a temporary reprieve. 

Nostalgia robs me of what is true about my past and diminishes was is wonderful about my present. My growing up years was like the brooding Cyclops, full of adventure and drama. I lived with a pantheon of risk takers, adventure seekers, God follower who created a life unusual and extraordinary. My daughter calls them the Pantheon, and she is not wrong. I knew this place as home and these people as family and life as normal. Cyclops was the better mountain, I was sure.  

Nostalgia lies though and distorts. 

Mt. Baker has been spectacular. I have married and raised our kids in her shadows. I have been surrounded with a pantheon of friends and co-workers who have worked to understand and listen to my stories. I have lost and grieved in the sunrises of that eastern beauty. I have walked 3 dogs in her winter, spring , summer and fall colors. We have established a home as she peaks through our dining room window. 

I am grateful for both. Cyclops formed me and Baker grows me.

 I'm not even sure if that makes sense to anyone but me. 😊