Brian knows I can savor the subtle scents of cedars in the crisp unadulterated Olympic peninsula air and feel the softness of the dense moss of the rain forest floor beneath my felt soles. I can see the streaks of sunlight piercing the forest canopy on the trail to the emerald ribbons of glacial water that slice the portals for native steelhead to thousands of miles of pelagic adventure, forging trout into steel on the open seas. Where humans dislike the rain, the rain belongs here in it's haven of beauty, and those humans that have this beauty in their minds can not dislike rain like the others. These places where the stones are polished by time and the waters glow with the promise of the silver giants of the trout clan are truly magic places, may they thrive forever; in our minds and in reality.
So tell everyone not to f_ck it up till I get back!