This week I'm looking to see or hear what the trees are trying to tell me, They are stark and dramatic now, and their personalities revealed without the extravagance of leaves. The trees' rain-darkened bones stand out clearly, accentuated against the skies' lighter backdrop.
Eastsider? Westsider? These terms are new to me, but it makes sense. The Oregon Cascades Mountains create a great divide running along the length of the state with two different climates, economies, lifestyles, and politics - all the things that make a life.
When you do something outside your comfort zone, it opens doors to doing other new, hard things. You're brave in one way, why not be brave in others? Creating a blog informed the way I write, the way I play music, how I try new things.
It's one of those sparkly days between rains as the sun came out again (note to self: AS IT DOES) .... The mid-October gift of sunshine makes me feel like the Grinch as his heart grows three sizes bigger.
Usually my feelings about Fall here in the Pacific Northwest are more mixed; excited about cooler mornings, rain in the garden, digging out warm clothes while mourning the end of languid days, sleeveless shirts, warm skin, and thriving gardens. Instead, I was fighting inevitable change, a losing battle.
Robert Hunter, the lyricist for the Grateful Dead, was also the lyricist for my life. His words threaded through my life since I was 21, when I met some new friends, Harold and Alan, and a community of people that became my tribe. Would I be who I am without Hunter?
My mind lingers on death more often these days. I tell Alan that if I become too demented and disabled he should smother me with a pillow, but he hasn't agreed. How about a commemorative plaque on a bench instead?
So many things can make or break a hike. What makes a hike a good hike for you? Here's what I noticed last time I went to the woods.
How French cooking and famous art take on the same significance for me during my three weeks traveling in France.
Basalt cliffs rose up straight up before us, and I imagined the floods advancing and receding repeatedly at the end of the Ice Age, the entire area being underwater, wiping out whatever was here before.