Route 7, Spanaway, Wa

Saturday we finally broke free. Though our great beacon Mt. Rainier had not been seen for over a week--due to incessant cloud cover that brought rain I am now so used to I can no longer hear it tap the windows--we knew that it was our only hope for snow. Everything was slate gray down the I-5. The sun appeared for a moment as we stopped in Tacoma to add anti-freeze, and then we turned onto route 7, an unforgettable road characterized by a distinctly American kind of poverty. Every commercial lot had been absorbed by a fast food chain--Arby's, McDonald's, Koto n' Philly: Teriyaki and Philly Cheesesteaks, together at last, underlined by a KFC-striped window awning. Between lots, like islands in a sea of parking lots, gourmet espresso huts boasted bavarian mochas and caramel lattes in neon. The residential lots, some with one or two acres of land, were covered with junk; broken cars, mattresses, torn couches, trampolines, small white windmills and televisions with smashed screens created a hapless landscape. I tried to imagine the stories that tell how each of these pieces became inutile. I wanted to photograph everything. Every lawn was a still life waiting to be photographed..But we were going snowshoeing, and the desire for white snow to blanket the gray uncertainty of route 7 was too strong.