Within an hour civilization is gone, young men pump my gas for me, and I am mystified by the surroundings. And as the four hours quickly pass I continuously witness change. The rocks grow until they are towering over me, the trees go from boise's deciduous, to rare desert shrubbery, to forests of Pines, and the occasional mountain village makes me grin at their stares of the out of placed short haired girl. I arrive two hours early. My destination: An RV on a small Ranch in central Oregon. Wow. I exit my car to Donny, a middle aged Ranch hand, who smiles continuously, chuckles warmly, invites me to a BBQ, and informs me that my host is out buying non-red meat grub.
And then time stops.
The wind continues to blow through the trees, the clouds change to a deep purple, but it is as if two hands have reached down, pushed upon my shoulders to make me sit and told me to just stop. And it felt right, God it felt so right out there. So beautiful and full of life and calm and perfect. We spent the evening sharing stories, laughs, knowledge, and tea in the RV.
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