I can smell it a half mile away. No one else seems to notice until I point it out to them when we arrive. Nine or ten years ago my town was hit by a devastating hurricane. Several were killed and the surrounding area, inundated with water, was divided into several islands. My neighborhood was inaccessible for four days until the waters subsided to reveal the devastation. For weeks following the storm cleanup was the main issue, buildings, homes, cars, businesses, and dead animals. As the weeks passed an acrid bitter smell remained in the air. Decomposition of non organic material , a little like sour newspaper at refuse dump.Today my nostrils are filled again with that smell. We round a bend and there it is, the landslide of Oso. We slow our pace, we decided before we would stop. Ahead there is a memorial set up, 44 evergreen trees with tokens of remembrance by loved ones draped on the young, spindly green branches. We park our bikes and slowly walk to the area of devastation. A gate keeps the curious out, the trees are to the right.

A bench has been set up with lots of odds and ends that at first make no sense. And then it hits like a brick wall…these are items taken from the mud and placed here as a memorial. We stand in silence and tears well up.

I have shed tears many times on this trip, out of thankfulness or joy, but these are tears of pure grief. I look up at the mountain side,now stripped bare and the tears flow. How awful for this mountain to come roaring down to stifle the life of this town.

We turn to walk along the row of the 44 trees, one for each who died. Pictures from loved ones hang on most, with messages in stone. Each is so poignant the tears just continue to flow. After a while we turn back to the road which has now been replaced with a new highway, the old one destroyed. We ride slowly away and I think again ” There are just no easy days”.