Mt. Rainier, Mt. Tacoma. Mt. Tahoma,

The name is not important.

To me and the thousands who live near her, she is "my mountain." Each time I see her, I see a different face. But, always, a face of magnificent beauty.

Sometimes she appears as a ballerina poised against the sky with her dainty skirt swirling around her thighs. Again, she appears as a gigantic ghost, ethereal in her snow clad slopes wreathed in filmy clouds. Ghostly, — but beautiful to behold

Early on a spring morning she is framed by the rising sun. A halo of fire surrounding her snow clad slopes. A regal queen in all her splendor.

I have often seen her when the winds stir the wispy vapors that hang in the shallows created by her many glaciers. These dancing vapors remind me of Salome and her Dance of the Seven Veils.

She is a gentle creature of nature when the soft and powdery snow covers her slopes and she spreads her arms to cushion the fall of a novice skier Again, — she is a cruel and unforgiving creature waiting to swallow the errant hiker or skier who dares wander from her many well marked trails.

Have you ever seen the lens cap clouds sitting on her shoulders reflecting a red sun set? This is her wondrous and beautiful way of telling her moods. She is saying, — 'I am pretty now, but, by mornings come I will be very angry' !!!!!!

I am not a hiker or skier. I do not paint with oil or watercolor. Nor, do I often paint with words. But, when I look at "my mountain" I find calm and inspiration in the immensity of the beauty I behold.

"She is life", "she is death", "my mountain," "the mountain of many faces".

I hope you love her, too !!!!!!!!!!

—JOHN BAIRD 1967