scottevest

Santa, Snoqualmie, and the regal Salish Lodge – A Traveler’s Wish

By

Dear Santa,

You never visit me anymore.

I remember back in the day where, after a Christmas Eve of cheerful congregants and church service, I would carefully place cookies or tortilla chips or a munchie du jour by the living room fireplace, head to bed, and awaken to a tree (always real) surrounded by presents. Sure, I’d count them every year, making sure that my brother and I had the same number of gifts, but overall, I think I’ve always been appreciative of your work.