
This is the view from the second story of Seattle’s Museum of History and Industry (MOHAI) looking down at my friend from college days, Al Young’s, 1970 Dodge Challenger Drag Racer in which Al won a long list of local and international championship titles.
At eye level is the hydroplane Slo-mo-shun IV, which I saw race on Lake Chelan, Washington in the mid to late 1950’s. “Over the span of almost 10 years, Slo-mo-shun IV & V came out of obscurity to dominate the unlimited hydroplane racing world, and then just as quickly vanish from the competitive racing circuit.” (http://www.slomoshun.com/index.php)
It was 1960, I was eleven years old and had traversed 3,000 miles across the USA with my family in a station wagon hauling a travel trailer. We started in the middle of Washington state, and landed in Boston. During that summer we visited many national parks including the Washington and Lincoln Memorials.
Since that first visit, I have returned to the National Mall whenever I am in DC. The awe I feel when approaching the Lincoln Memorial is palpable, and I ache when I walk the Vietnam War Memorial Wall. On my last visit the World War II Memorial was just completed. It too inspires me and is a fitting tribute.
A lifetime resident of Washington State, Lindy Le Coq grew up respecting and loving the natural world; traits which are evident in her favorite activities and creative pursuits. “Mini environments fascinate me; like a hermit crab in a periwinkle shell, tide pools, moss on a fence rail, dish gardens, the tiny flower heads of Sweet Alyssum.”
After retiring from a thirty-year high school counseling career, Lindy is happy “to spend the rest of my life being the artist I am, and coaxing my dormant stories into the light of day.” Currently she is writing a biography of her ninety-two-year-old father, working the final edit of her third short story, and creating color pencil drawings to illustrate her short stories.
“When the weather is too hot, too cold, or too wet, I prefer to write, draw and read. When it’s nice though, I like to play…
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I took this photo with my camera resting on top of the old weathered timber that extended across Crescent Creek. This angle extends the length, making it look a long way to the other side. Since I took this shot the timber has been removed.
Yesterday a few flakes whirled through the air. TV and radio weather newscasts warned us to prepare for several days of heavy snow ~ soon.
By the time Creighton returned from gathering supplies, all the school districts in the greater metro area were closing, and we already had three inches of snow on the front yard…the trees…the ground. It fell nonstop, accumulating one flake at a time into the twilight. At bedtime there were seven inches on the deck railing.
Today Josie and I play!
In October, 1967, I was a freshman at the University of Washington. Mutual friends introduced Creighton to me ~ we clicked. On our first date he took me to the Farrells Ice Cream parlor in Bellevue. This fragile plastic giraffe was on top of my ice cream sundae. Forty-seven years later it remains a sweet reminder of our courtship and enduring love; a treasure only he and I understand.
As a student of Visual Arts at the University of Washington in the late 1960’s, I tried to capture the clash between the natural world. which was (and remains) my comfort zone, and the ever encroaching industrial complex. The only oil painting I still have from those days is of a dominant concrete retaining wall holding back the rolling freedom of Palouse hillsides. I also have a small brass and glass box I made, in which a Milkweed seed rests.
On a neighborhood walk last autumn with my Beagle and camera, while Josie romped freely in the open field – right of way of the Bonneville Power Authority – I looked up.