Saying thanks and farewell to Oregon, heading to California
31 January 2014
Walk with Jason and his camera on Harris Beach.
We
have stayed for nine nights, our longest stay so far. A full month out and we are more settled into
“the life”. Soundtrack: Robert Earl Keen, The Road Goes on Forever. The
road goes on forever and the party never ends.
From a backwater behind dunes where the Pistol River meets
the ocean.
Both of the photos above are his. We are both shooting most of the time. Seems odd that the same language is used for
guns and for cameras. Frame it up, get
the shot, waiting for light—it’s about hunting somehow.
“Composition. Where
optics are in space. Leading lines.
Color and contrast.” Jason’s answer when I ask him what he is thinking about
with the photography. “What I am trying to do is take better pictures today
than yesterday.” He chuckles at his own vagueness. He is visual not verbal. Jason doesn’t photograph stories and
narratives. He teaches us to see.
The Chetco River by Jason
by Nancy
The rain broke yesterday but for 2-3 days had been steady,
then heavy, then wet air, then back to steady.
The rain is what we expected, and mostly we’ve had sun. Locals along the coast lament lack of
moisture. The governor has put the state
on voluntary water restriction. The Oregon
rivers look seriously dewatered—NPR says they are running at 10% of
normal. Heard a story out of California
public radio this morning saying that wine growers are cutting back veins
because available moisture won’t support them.
Old stories. The ones
we tell over and over again because they shape us. Gramma saying, “In this family, we never
complain about rain.” The homestead was
lucky with 11 inches a year on average, especially if came at the right
times. This coast by comparison depends
on 11 inches in January. My photos are more narrative. Like this one--you could all tell the story.
The Northern Most Redwood Grove follows. We are moving to Redwood National Park
tomorrow. Found this next hike in the
Chetco drainage on forest service land.
Poorly maintained structures, and fabulous walking.
These last two are mine.
Jase is teaching me processing.
Jason’s of course!
Morning coffee sweet spot, my photo. This is where the visual folks can move
on. No more photos beyond this point. Truxton, recognize the coffee pot?
Thanks! Canisters are good too.
What I miss from home:
1)
A clothes dryer, even our crummy
inefficient one. We never want to stay
in a laundromat long enough to get things really and truly dry. In our climate they dry out anyway. Here they don’t. With rain the condensation in the trailer
requires management. Our security
windows make it easy to leave air circulating when we are gone and we vent well
when cooking and when we are warm.
2) Our
shower. The shower in our
trailer is small and we don’t need more humidity here anyway. We trundle off to the camp showers. They are adequate to the job, have good warm
water and are sort of heated. I remember
the bathroom at home as being bigger than this entire space.
The Duke referenced our DTI and Jason had to tell me that it
meant domestic tranquility index. Of
course we have our moments. All in all
tho I feel like I am being courted.
Jason doesn’t court constantly.
Paulie advised me in our first weeks together to enjoy Jason’s full
attention. He told me I wouldn’t have it
all the time because he then would turn is full attention to something
else—most of all his art. That was great
advice and I don’t think I would find continual courting sincere. So when it does happen it takes my breath
away all over again. We are really
enjoying this together. We like the
daily chores, sweeping, laundry, cooking, dishes—the whole deal. And the times on the beaches, rivers and
trails are spectacular. Our intimacy
deepens with our aging. One scientific
writer, David Schnarch, suggests that we become more capable of great intimacy
in our 50s and 60s. It’s a nice way to
think about it.
We had a laugh this morning about sincerely thinking that we
are younger than the other people in the campgrounds. Probably we’re not.
Thanks for tuning in.
Comments and feedback are welcome.
Tomorrow on to the “real” redwoods.
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