I somehow agreed to an 8:30 am tour at the Portland Japanese Garden in early March. I wondered what could possibly be interesting about a slow stroll through the damp, the cold, the bare-branches? I'm sometimes reluctant to go with Alan on his frequent visits; I prefer unkempt forest trails and meandering streams, where nature has its way.
Attics of My Life Part II
Ojai, Ventura, Santa Barbara, our weeklong adventure continues. This wasn't the sort of travel seeking new adventures and novel sights. This was a trip through the past to make sure the ties that bind are healthy and alive.
Attics of My Life
Sometimes you have to step back into the past to find a way to move forward. Actually I just made that up; I don't know if it's true. But doesn't it sound good? I went back to my old home for a week. What did I find? Sustenance, encouragement, joy, beauty, camaraderie. Oh and warmth. A jumping off place. I don't know what's next, but I feel good since coming back; the tank is full. That's good, because I'm writing this in record snowfall.
Cranes’ Landing and Fog
We went for another glimpse of Sandhill Cranes, but everything was submerged in an opaque fog, and we could have been anywhere.... I listened intently for that bugling call, or the cry of the geese. Apparitions rose from the fog as I peered around, and my ears strained to hear
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.
Rocks, Waves, Mud and Home
A pink sunrise and calm seas was an auspicious start for our return trip home, with stops at churning, restless waters, grand bridges, stunning viewpoints, and a steep muddy hike.
When we planned this four day vacation last month, I assumed it would be a storm watching trip, and found a hotel with lots of windows right smack up to the water. I envisioned cozy indoor time in our little nest, gazing out at the wild surf.... The rain swept in as a steady flow from the south. Looking out the window started to feel like being snow blind - white on white, with barely a glimmer of blue or green.
Oregon Coast Winter
Day two of an Oregon adventure. Setting off southward, we drove and stopped and drove and hiked and drove and stopped some more. That's the Oregon coast, thick with rest stops, viewpoints, waysides, and more. You can't get far because you want to stop at them all.
On the Road Again
Finally, everything aligned, and it was time to get out to the Oregon coast. I packed every bit of warm clothing, binoculars and bird books, notebooks and fiction, and we set out to the south in a drizzle. The sky was a tumult of grays and whites, and we drove over rivers, between pastures, past wetlands and bogs...
With daily temps hovering just below freezing we just walk the neighborhood as usual, round and round.