We have never missed this many posts in a row — 4 by my count.
But we are well — and home in Portland. And even getting rested. So here’s a bit of travelogue, just in case you were missing it:
We crossed Death Valley from Beatty and then across the mountains, the Panamints, on the other side. Some part of me expected to see green California on the west side of the Panamints, but instead, there was a miniature Death Valley — more startling scenery, more crazed roads picking their way across forboding country. Specatacular.
As we drove toward Susanville, following the west side of the Sierras, we encountered hundreds of photo-taking spots. This is somewhere near the east side of the John Muir Wilderness area — or maybe Yosemite — or maybe just another astonishing range of mountains. The Sierras form a wall beside the road (although sometimes it turns to go through a town and so faces the mountains head-on) that defines formidable.
Once we reached Susanville, we drove through to the central California Valley and headed north. By the time we reached Grant’s Pass, in Oregon, this was the scene:
And this, in our very own eastside industrial district:
And finally, as we pulled into our driveway, we could bask in the sight of neighbor John’s tree:
Our daffs are still blooming, our forsythia and evergreen clematis have bright blossoms, and it’s raining.
I woke yesterday to the rain and for an instant thought how good it was for the sage and creosote and greasewood to get a bit of water. Then I remembered where I was and felt a bit of glad-sad. –June