Beyond Mud To Open Waters

I never tire of crossing over the Columbia River into Washington. It has everything: a bridge, a river, another state, and another point of view. I hear constant birdsong during my four hour hike at Steigerwald Refuge. My troubles dissapate, and float away with the river.

Cranes’ Landing

We spent a cold, rainy afternoon looking at birds, most especially, the migrating Sandhill Cranes. To watch them majestically take off and soar, or wheel around for a landing, is to stand in awe, rooted.

Oh the Water!

The power of moving water that has traveled many miles is a mighty sweep of mind that displaces all the detritus and details and picky little annoyances of life, and smashes them to bits, and brings me back to nothingness - more than than I ever get on the mat or on the cushion or by watching my breath.

Showing Up

More than ever, it is time for Nana and Pa to show up, and help our two grandkids run off energy and frustration, connect with nature, and find moments of joy in the great outdoors, abundant here in Portland.

Past is Present at Catherine Creek

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.

The Graveyard of the Pacific

The Columbia River spills into the Pacific in Astoria, a confluence of legendary currents, tides, waves and winds, plus frequent fog and rain. I mean, who wouldn't want to visit the place known as The Graveyard of the Pacific?