5:25 a.m.

Waiting for the sun to rise from my upstairs window with Mount Hood in the distance:

5:27 a.m.

At its northernmost point, it peeks through Elizabeth’s sequoia sempervirens, fifty feet high now, from only five when she planted it in 1999:

9:05 p.m.

It slips into the clouds over the western coastal range, again in the far north, after spending this longest day arcing around to the distant south and all the way back.