Sunday, April 9, 2006



I am from Douglas fir, hemlock, spruce and cedar.


I am from the Cascades, the Blues, the Siskiyous, and the Wallowas.


 I am from clear cuts, choker cables, riggers and log trucks with one log loads.


I am from sandy beaches, basalt cliffs and mudflats.


I am from wild geese calling at sunrise, wrens in the thickets, and great blue herons on the other side of the river.


I am from the little creeks, the mighty Columbia and the Pacific breakers.


I am from tricycles, tetherballs, little sisters with skinned knees and a love for bugs.


I am from the ivy by the patio, the hydrangeas with dinner plate size clumps of blossoms and the garden in the back yard.


I am from a wringer washer, a concrete laundry sink and clothes full of the smell of sunshine.


I am from missionaries, Methodist hymnals and fairy rings.


I am from winter gales, spring showers, sunny summer days and autumn fogs and frosts.


I am from lavender, dogwood, daffodils, daylilies, ivy and blueberries.


I am from rivers with concrete barriers, hydroelectric turbines, anda creek that’s lost its namesake salmon run.


I am from Hanford Reach, the Umatilla Arms depot, and the Columbia Gorge where condors may soar again.


I am from logging towns with no mills, harbors with no fish, and farms being swallowed by urban sprawl.


I am from books, and a flute and feeling out of step on the march to wherever.


I am from feeling like I’m on the outside looking in. I am from seeing what no one else seems to see.  I am from hearing what no one else seems to hear. 


And Russ, you’re right. I think I’m gonna stop here myself.


oceanmrc said...


sistercdr said...

This is stunning.

toonguykc said...

I regret doing this exercise....I wasn't ready for it.  (sadness)