Wishkah Wanderings

Aberdeen Bus Station

Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, I became aware of a steady rain outside my window. After weeks of splendid sunshine and brown grass, I actually looked forward to a true Washington welcome. Now, a low rumble of thunder harmonizes with the swish of wind in the trees and the patter of rain on the pavement. The ground soaks in the moisture greedily. Remind me in a few months that I found the wind and the rain cozy today.

Wishkah Winker

Next week, we move up river a few miles, but while we squat in our temporary apartment in Aberdeen and before the rain descended, the kids and I decided to see the sights. Mind you, most tourists who come to Southwestern Washington simply pass through Aberdeen on their way to the beaches. With high unemployment and infamous drug use, the town hardly boasts a sterling reputation. Beggars stand on the street corners underneath signs that warn citizens to "Keep the change--don't support panhandling." At night, many of those same panhandlers presumably sleep in the tent city around the corner from our apartment. Office buildings in the town center stand empty.

Brad at Sucher and Sons Star Wars Shop

And yet...sculptures grace nearly every street corner, from 13 whimsical "Critters on the Map" to the
"Breaker" sculpture, made of 309 sandstone blocks salvaged when the city's historic high school burnt to the ground in 2002. Several large murals cover the sides of downtown buildings, and even the alleyways display an impressive collection of street art.

For those who need a quick getaway to another

Alley art

time, the public library houses a Tardis. Alternatively, Sucher and Sons Star Wars shop offers thousands of Star Wars items, from tiny figurines to vintage Millenium Falcons, Lego sets and every imaginable collectible.

Kurt Cobain memorial under the Young Street bridge

My morning runs take me through the hills overlooking Grays Harbor, with winding roads and lovely views. Off the hill and under the Young Street bridge, the perspective shifts. In a small park next to the bridge, a lone picnic table sits quietly next to the guitar sculpture memorial to Nirvana front man Kurt Cobain. A plaque gives the words to Cobain's song "Something in the Way," written about the musician's time underneath the bridge. But the real memorial, the tribute that strikes a chord, is the graffiti mural underneath the bridge, above the mud that slides down to the banks of the Wishkah River.

I doubt my ashes will ever scatter across the Wishkah, as Kurt Cobain's ashes did 20 years ago, but I am glad life tossed me on its banks for short time and gave me a chance to appreciate art, music, the nostalgia of childhood movies and the reminder that my life has given me blessings far beyond what I deserve.