THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST : The Road Not Taken & Polaroids

It was five years ago that I first clapped eyes on snow covered majesty. It was three years ago since I last visited the PNW and made massive life decisions that have brought me here, yet again, today…

When I first said Hullo Seattle! I was seventeen. There were three beloveds that highlighted that stay but today, are no longer here to greet me. There are no coffee meet ups with them, no words of wisdom to glean except those that were initially shared and therefore remembered. When I said hullo to Portland (and 3 times that same year to boot), I was 19 going on 20. I was pursuing a career in Photo Styling, praying that a certain guy would notice me, and had the looming possibility of quitting school and moving to Richmond. Now, at 23 years old, I’m back and oh the journeys that have colored my life since. The cityscapes and trees beckon my heart to catch them up to speed on the latest in Tara’s story…

It’s funny how geographical locations can catapult you into both memory lane and the territory of dreaming of what is yet to come. As though my heart needed to catch up with these places in order to, ultimately, be reminded of the Lord’s faithfulness and reestablish who I am and what am to do going forward. And this time, the PNW doesn’t have me making massive life decisions but rather, it has me feeling peaceful and excited to return to what I’m already doing on the East Coast.

[Dear Santa, I would love you forever if a Polaroid came in my stocking….]

Many stories have been shared, created, and reestablished here. And I am grateful. Yet before I finish this larger-than-normal cuppa and head to the airport, I can’t help but reflect back on my journeys and Robert Frost’s talent in penning their description so truly…

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Always,
–Tara M.