Went to eastern Oregon on Monday and Tuesday with N, and I got a little homesick. It looks an awful lot like home. The wind was blowing, the sky was a clear, wide-open blue, the dirt was blowing in my face ...
Monday night, as I waited for N to unhook the trailers from the semi truck, I stood in a dark, half-cultivated field full of lilly bulbs, watching high, wispy clouds skitter in front of the moon, letting the wind whip my hair around my face and feeling hot tears well up. I blamed the tears on the dirt in my eyes, but I think some of it was the homesickness, too ...
Who knew that a few rustling acres of barley and corn and an uninterrupted horizon could do that?
Friday, November 19, 2010
Hermiston looks a lot like The 307
