A continuation of the below...

22 Dec
It's the shortest day of the year. I looked out the window around 2:30 or 3:00 and saw sunset colors over the hills out to the west. "That can't be what it is" I told myself at the time. Now looking at the clock and the heavily clouded sky, I discover that I was wrong. The sun is gone. I've become such a southerner seeking the heat or at least the sight of the sun. I wonder even more at my fascination with clouds and fog. Especially the fog...

- - -

28 Dec
The clock has just chimed midnight.
I wanted to remember things while I was thinking about them...
~sparrows in the bush. Flock looking at me as I walked by, all chirping to each other about me...
~sunset over the mountains- low clouds, shadow mountains, red glimmer...gone
~moon rising over Olympic mountains, slight cloud cover...cold
~stars at 1am
~black cat with emerald green eyes, gazing out an apartment window, watching the world below. Sees me, eyes meet, he wins...

- - -

29 Dec
I feel like some sort of enchanted creature, waiting 'til the bell tolls midnight... My candle flame is tossed about by the draft of the vent near my head. Behind me my shadow looms massive and distorted, thrown against the wall and ceiling. I am full of half thoughts and musings... midnight.

31 Dec
Silence and darkness belong together; daylight needs something to fill it. Total quiet during the day is unnerving. Music is best for filling the emptiness.

- - -

2 Jan
It's so big and open here. I could sense the openness last night, but not fully. The whiteness goes on for as far as the eye can see, broken by the occasional house or clump of trees. I haven't been outside today yet, but I feel peaceful and restless at the same time. I look out at the hills and want to know what is beyond them. Similar to being in the forest, I feel whole somehow.
The little girls are adorable and they know it. This does not detract at all from their cuteness.
Someone is playing guitar downstairs...

- - -

5 Dec
I am leaving Tacoma with rather mixed feelings. I am looking forward to getting back to school and seeing everyone again. At the same time, I have a vague insistent feeling of running away. If (name deleted) had known before I bought my ticket that we would not be driving back until Sunday, I would have been guilt-tripped until I stayed. And all unintentionally too. I don't think I could have handled staying much longer, the place it too small and right now I want to be moving.
We've just passed under the Narrows Bridge. I've grown up watching trains go along this track. Now I'm riding along it, moving slowly south.
I can see mountains off to the east. They are breath-taking, leaving me instead with a desire to wander and explore. I will have to be content to do both mentally - at least for a while...
The water's edge is right below me, with the Sound stretching away. It is very calm today and the water is clear. Driftwood, entire logs and stumps (and a random lost little boat) fill the narrow strip of sand between the water and the train embankment. All along the edge of the Sound are old abandoned docks and piers. They are falling apart and look like good places to go and read or write or pensivate. I do love this area, and hope to someday be able to explore it high and low.
My traveling companion is a young woman perhaps my age perhaps a little older. Her name is Lee (or Leigh) and she is en route to San Diego.

Sunset now, somewhere in central Oregon, we passed Salem a while ago. The color is lingering below the clouds that now fill the sky. We just passed a sign saying that we are now entering Jefferson. It is a small town, old surrounded by farmland, rolling fields and tree toped hills, lots of pine.
River, bridge, the town is gone and fields have returned. Looking ahead I can see mountains against the sunset.
Cradled in a valley of the hills, the sun set and tree up its last rays, red and brilliant against the sky as a woman to her lover. And he came, for they did not last long and have now gone, leaving the western sky with its pale sunset hues.
We've nearly reached Albany.

- - -

6 Jan
The sun has risen, leaving the horizon with a kiss. The forests and mountains are far behind. I have returned to the region of orchards and fields and live oaks. The sky is clear, a low haze, think in some places, covers the ground soon to burn off in the heat of the sun. For now it gives an unreal sense to everything. The haze is simply there- low and thick with little texture, still, obscuring anything that could come out of it.
And out of it has come marsh land, scattered with trees. Were it nightfall, rather than day's breaking, I would expect to see the ghosts of those who had lost their way in the fog (perhaps the same fog) or had been "disposed" of in the silent waters. It seems very still, not a rush stalk is moving, not a tree branch sways.
Another river, another bridge, this time both very long and wide.
Martinez.
The country is gone, slowly filled up with more and more buildings. We've arrived in Oakland- Jack London Square. The day has continued clear, a bit of Bay fog remains and a few scattered clouds. We are about an hour later than I thought we'd be, so I get to wait around the San Jose station for an hour or so. Not too bad, always lots to see. I'm not sure I want to be back around people quite yet.
- - -
Somewhere between Oakland and San Jose... The marshes began again and the sky clouded over. We passed several sites with abandoned and nearly sunken shacks, some with chimney pipes still extant. And as quickly as that civilization has returned.
- - -
I am at the train station, waiting. Inside became too enclosed and I have moved out front. My ride should be here soon. I have the post travel blues...I have come to expect them at the end of trips...