A Moody Rainier

Conservationist John Muir wrote, "Of all the alpine gardens I ever beheld in all my mountaintop wanderings," Mount Rainier displayed "the most beautiful alpine gardens I have seen anywhere in the world." He must have been describing October before the first snowfall in Mount Rainier National Park. Meadows surrounding the peak blended expanses of red, orange, gold, rust and beige in an artist's palette of earthy colors. The deep greens and browns of Douglas firs and cedars edged the craggy gray of the snow-capped peak, and every turn of the road opened a view more breath-taking than the last. With almost all the facilities of the national park closed, we opted for the overlooks and a couple short trails: Box Canyon with views of Silver Falls, Narada Falls and Paradise Gardens.
In four short hours, the mountain changed her moods.
"She seems melancholy," I noticed early this morning, watching billows of white fog swirl at the summit as we drove inland from Seattle.
"It could change," said Andy. "That's warmer air hitting the snow."
He pointed to patches of blue sky peeking through at mid-morning. "I can't get over how warm it still feels or how many people there are at Paradise."
"I have on lighter clothes today than yesterday, and I 'm a lot more comfortable. I was freezing in Seattle. It's definitely warmer here at 5,400 feet," I told him.
"I never planned to come to Rainier," he said. "Most years the mountain is snowed in by late September. At least that's when the lodges and trails close down. And this? Not a bit of snow anywhere except on the peak itself. This is unbelievable."
By noon Rainer's mood shifted to one of sheer joy. Occasional feathery clouds moved over the summit and surfed down the glaciers. Soon all trace of the fog dissipated, exposing a robin's egg sky. The white peak glistened in the sun. "It almost looks like the mountain is smiling," I told Andy.
"Did you get to see the top?" asked niece Kari later in the evening as we chatted during dinner in Olympia. "We had one glimpse after it rained all day during a field trip a couple weeks ago." She had accompanied a graduate class from Evergreen State College to the mountain in her elective study of sustainable forests. "Late in the afternoon of our field trip we yelled, 'Stop the van,' because we had not seen the top all day in the rain. The peak was totally hidden, but we caught one sad glimpse."
"I think that's just the moods of the mountain," I told Andy later.