here’s to days that start out grumbling and heaving and finish out sweet, like the smell of water soaking into dry earth.
me and my river: camping where cedar creek meets the santiam sometimes feels more like home than my actual home in the valley. it’s clear water and big mossy rocks that warm up in the sun and the parts that are deep enough to jump into and your feet don’t touch the bottom. at the end of the day i nestled into my hammock cocoon and slept hard, until i was woken up in the morning by rolling thunder and the ever present passing of the santiam waters.
State campgrounds are weird places. tribes of children riding bikes and whispering about “formations,” middle school kids singing an a capella version of linkin park, lots of RVs, and a band of twenty somethings playing scattergories for hours and telling stories about poop.
Beverly Beach, OR // July 2014