The text and paintings on The Trowbridge Chronicles are taken from the illustrated journal of Violet Trowbridge, a shrew that once lived in a village deep in the Olympic Rain Forest. Each new post will represent a portion of Mrs. Trowbridge’s journal.

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

LITTLE THINGS

Sometimes it's the little things that make a big difference. What if I would have been born in Hoboken , New Jersey, or Muleshoe, Texas? If that were the case, there would have never been a Trowbridge Chronicles. The Trowbridge realm lies beyond those snow-capped mountains, the Olympic Mountains, in the northwest corner of Washington State.

It was in the Quinault Rain Forest deep in the heart of the Olympic wilderness that I discovered that tiny illustrated journal beside a stream known as Wild Rose Creek. As some of you know, the mossy banks of this creek was once the bustling rain forest village of Huckleberry Hollow. It was here that Mrs. Trowbridge lived, scribed, painted, and raised a family.

The pastoral valley in the foreground is the Dungeness Valley, and the town of Sequim (pronounced Skwim), my hometown. This isn't just another Northwest timber town. This lovely spot on the coastal plain between the Olympic Mountains and the Strait of Juan de Fuca was voted one of America's Seven Shangri Las. People come from near and far seeking their little piece of paradise in this verdant valley that boasts only 16 inches of rain per year.

Modern times have brought considerable change to the valley. The gray grain elevator on the right is now a Mexican restaurant. Yes, there's a Wal-Mart on the west end of town, and a big-name hotel on the east side. If you want to see Sequim before it becomes Paradise Lost, you better hurry.

The beautiful photograph below was taken by my good friend and hiking partner, Ross Hamilton, one of Washington's premier photographers. If you would like to see more of Ross' photographs of the Olympic wilderness, check out his web site at: www.rosshamiltonphotography.com.


2 comments:

studio lolo said...

Reminds me of Joni Mitchell's song..."They paved Paradise to put up a parking lot." It's a crying shame. I long for simpler times before Ipods and nanotech everything. Bring back the fifties! This looks like a wonderful place to have grown up.

Digital Scott's illustrationblog said...

Yes, it is often the little things that shape us. A kind word, or a harsh one, a tender glance or a look that divides, can lead us down one path or another.

Thank you for your kind words on my blog.