The vast grassland stretched out into a perfect spring day. An eagle soared, a heron and egret fished. I needed nothing else from the world for just that moment.
Spring unrolls in phases. Budlets. A tiny bloom. Cobwebs clear. Brilliant greens. Blue sky crowds out clouds. Shoulders lower. Twitterpated birds. Nesting ensues. Goldfinch returns. Cold breeze. Restlessness. Peonies nod. Tulips curtsy. Red currant waves. Trillium hunting time. Phone photos, but you get the idea. Tryon Creek State Natural Area. Trillium, Salmonberry, Skunk Cabbage TrilliumTrillium … Continue reading Wordless Wednesday
I'm thinking we need a signal, some indication or sign that you are vaccinated. A V sign? A happy dance?
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.
I spent April chasing Oregon's elusive wildflower bounty, hoping to catch the brief moment in time when tight little buds transform into fields of color.
The Coast Starlight train trip from Oakland to Santa Barbara is a beautiful nine hours long. I had frequently traveled up and down the U.S. west coast, but the train was just never as cheap or quick or convenient as flying or driving. But when all you have is time...
When we first arrived in Portland our son warned us that spring was actually several seasons in one - fake spring, late winter, early spring, summer, real spring, winter again, and so on.
An afternoon hike in Lacamas Park turns into a hike into history, ecology, botany and more. The retired life!
All of Portland loses its mind on a day like this. We head out to soak up a winter's worth of soul sustaining sunshine. It's the promise that yes, change will come, even if it rains all the rest of this week. It's the acknowledgement that we did survive whatever personal hell was our winter.