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Rain patters down the bus window, droplets racing each other across the glass as the bus glides down the I-5. The brightly lit Seattle skyline fades into the background as I press my cheek against the cold glass attempting to get my last glimpses of the glowing Space Needle in the distance. I have found myself on a road I’ve travelled many times before, but the looming knowledge of an extended time away from the Emerald City has me feeling nostalgic. I am somber to leave behind the city that has stolen my heart.
The roads are winding and never-ending as I eavesdrop on the rap music oozing out of the headphones belonging to the stranger next to me. Even in the misty, fading light, Washington has never looked more beautiful. Dense evergreen trees line the north-bound highway, blanketing the landscape in the kind of profound beauty that has me nearly forgetting the entire world. Narrow train tracks run alongside the loudly-humming bus, following our path through my favorite decrepit town. Bricks and chipped-paint constitute the crumbling buildings, standing short on flower-basket lined streets. The jagged streets rattle the bus as it creeps through the quiet town. The modern bus station feels painfully out of place.
Darkness has thoroughly enveloped the highway by the time we pass the burgundy barn with “Apple Cider” painted in huge, capital letters across its silver tin roof. I’ve passed it countless times, but I have yet to stop in for an apple. The parking lots of strip malls are eerily empty under bright lights, and the road quiets as the bus rolls north. The lights dotting the mountainous landscape have become sparse, their glow barely reaching my sleepy eyes. We pass what I assume to be a church, but all I can see is a flawless white crucifix lit up against the black sky. It is mystical and breathtaking.
I am aware of the beauty being concealed by the rainy darkness. The lush green plains, the sprawling mountain ranges, the magnificently snowy tip of Mount Baker. Washington may not be my home by birth, but I am ecstatic to call it my home now. I am lucky to go to school in an environment whose beauty I wouldn’t trade for the world. Passing through the border into Canada, a yearning for my home in Seattle surges through my heart. I remind myself that I’m only a mere four days away from passing through this beloved landscape again.
See you on the other side, Washington.