On the western side of Washington it's hard to go far without running into stands of fir trees, sometimes they go on for miles. Of course that is due in part to deep treed buffers along the roadsides, giving the impression there are endless acres just out of sight. I never tire of their beauty and am ever grateful for the air quality and habitat they improve, but...every-once-in-a-while, when an open field appears midst the stands, I get a little homesick. Spending the first half or so of my life in areas where you could see for miles leaves a mark. So, when I'm blabbing about how amazing I think Black Jack Valley looks dusted in snow AGAIN, read...craving wide open and found it.