Mount Rainier National Park, Washington
It was one of those days. We’d gotten up on the wrong side of the bed for some reason and both Luke and I had been decently grumpy all morning. By the time lunch rolled around, I knew the only way to save the day was to escape the house.
We drove and drove and drove and drove until the fog turned to rain and the rain turned to snow. Luke slept quietly in his carseat while I listened to music and let my mind wander as the miles ticked by. Before I knew it, two and a half hours had passed and I found myself at the entrance of Mount Rainier National Park, one of my favorite happy places in Washington.
Luke woke up as we entered the park. We had just passed the gate when the snow began to come down hard. Luke started laughing and yelling “Dow! Dow! Dow!” as the giant flake swirled all around the car. I pulled over at the first available opportunity and we jumped out as fast as we could.
Luke walked in circles and held is hands out to catch the snowflakes, a huge, goofy grin plastered on his little face. The wintery quiet was broken only by the sound of our footsteps and Luke’s occasional squeal of joy.
Darkness was approaching fast and the snow fell harder and harder. After only about a half an hour in the park and with a two and a half hour drive home ahead of us, we brushed the snow from our coats and hats and climbed back in the car, cold but happy and feeling recharged by our tiny outing.