My Adventure Into Fairyland

It's been making me crazy that I'm in a state with so much beautiful and yet I haven't been able to locate a single walking trail in my immediate area yet--that is--until now.

I was driving around yesterday, deciding what sort of dinner to pick up (went with orange chicken, btw--and may I also note that this Washington place is OBSESSED with teriyaki)...but I digress. I was driving around a cluster of little corporations, all placed among naturey trees and outdoorsey green stuff--quite picturesque for a computer and technology nest--and I noted that people seemed to be coming and going from a trail, or at least, it looked that way to me because they were in work-out clothes and/or were looking all intense with the walking.

Do not laugh at me. Come on. You know what I'm saying. People do not look like this when they work out:

They look like this:

Okay, so maybe not that bad, but still. They were intense. Anyhoo, so I kind of, erm, watched (COUGHstalkedCOUGH) them for a while, seeking an entrance/exit to this elusive, wonderful fantasy trail of my dreams. YAY! And I found one just beyond two wooden posts! At least, I thought I had, and I determined to go back there today to find out.  So around noon, I embarked on a journey to find said path.

I wasn't succeeding very well.

I mean, I went too far and ended up in a maze of lovely parking lots--and while I'll give it to Washington that their parking lots are the prettiest damned parking lots that have ever been, I did not wish to walk about a parking lot. I wanted a trail, and I was on a mission. So I backtracked to the area I'd been eyeing up yesterday, and located said supposed trail entryway, excitedly parking nearby. As I entered through the wooden posts, my hope was great:

And I happily walked a bit (in the rain), enjoying the smell of nature and waving to some woodland creatures when suddenly the path ended far too quickly at a sidewalk (how discouraging) after maybe a quarter of a block. I turned left hoping that perhaps the sidewalk had some misplaced inlet back into the magical fairy land from whence I had come. And though I did not find an entrance there, I did find this off a nice wooden bridge:

Oooooo, Aaaaaaaahhhhh.

Is nice, yes?

Mmkay. But while this detour was lovely, indeed, it STILL was not a trail, dag nabbit! So, defeated and dejected, I backtracked down now dubbed "small deceiving path of sadness" while my woodland creature friends laughed and pointed, and I was crossing the street to the place where I'd parked my car when I saw it--poised there at the end of the crosswalk. AN ENTRANCE. And it was glowing and it had sparkles and there was music like harps from the heavens! (Okay, none of that, really, but that's how it felt to meeee.) 

Only problem was, it was still raining, because that's what happens here in the Pacific North West. It rains. A lot. Which is common and also frequent. And I started thinking something like this:

"Hmm. Do I want to walk more in the rain?" 

"You have just swam the seven seas!!!! WALK, BITCH. It's just water."

So I did. And I by the time I decided to stop two things had occurred.  For one, I have a feeling that I haven't even seen the good parts of the trail yet. I didn't go far enough to really enter the woods, which is the ultimate goal. It was mostly just woods and a creek on one side, parking lots on the other. 

I will say that at first, when I moved out here, I couldn't really see a perk to the rain. I'd expected to be grumpy that I'd have to walk in it so frequently. I'd expected my reaction to be something like this:

Or perhaps even something like this:

HULK HATE RAIN!!!

But by the end of my walk I'd realized something quite helpful: I love walking in the rain! Know why? Because I have zero tolerance for the heat, and if it's super duper hot outside, with an unbearable sun beating down and relentless death rays, I will not walk in it. However, when raindrops are falling on my head, I'm quite refreshed and liable to go on for ages! Oh bliss! And so, my expression was something more akin to this:

(Actual expression.)

Or maybe this even:

And that's my story. Thus ends today's adventure.