“The road of life twists and turns and no two directions are ever the same. Yet our lessons come from the journey, not the destination. – Don Williams.
The yellow winding road warning sign was no joke. -- Photo by Pat Bean
Travels With Maggie
For two days now, I’ve been traveling south on Highway 395 in Oregon. It’s an awesome road, full of twisty turns, steep canyons, grazing cattle, grassy meadows and flowing water.
I began my journey in Pendleton, where cowboys and Indians still roam, and on the first day I made it to the beautiful Clyde Holliday Park just outside John Day, where quail and deer still play. The second day found me in Lakeview, south of Lake Albert and just north of the California border..
The town of John Day is named for the John Day River, which was named for a Virginian who accompanied the Astor Expedition that followed the footsteps made by the earlier Lewis and Clark Expedition. Clyde Holliday is a successful logging entrepreneur in the area.
The roadsides occasionally hinted of autumn ahead. -- Photo by Pat Bean
The first day on the road took me through Battle Mountain State Park, and gave me a history lesson about the Bannock War. The park is the site of the last major fight the Bannock Indians fought against the encroachment of white settlers.
The highway north of John Day, while steep and winding, was mostly broad and open. The canyon south of John Day was steeper and narrower and often lined with trees. Except for an occasional logging truck, I was usually the only vehicle on the road.
Forks of the John Day River followed me both days. As I drove yesterday I composed a poem in my head. I seldom write poetry, but when I do, I call it soul words, which is my way of excusing my murder of poetic forms.
I hope you will, too.
Time Well Spent
Take me up to the mountain top
Up where the eagle and red-tailed hawk soar
Let me look out on a panoramic vista
Of meadows filled with golden grasses,
And clumps of frosty sagebrush
And patches of yellow wild blossoms
And here and there a tinge of red
That speaks of summer’s end.
Let me delight watching conifer leaves twinkle in the wind
And be amazed at how the stalky evergreens
March their way in jumbled rows up rocky cliffs
Let me linger a bit here on the high reach
Breathing in the fresh sky-scrubbed air
Scented with pungent sage and pine needles
Then let me slowly travel down canyon
Accompanied by the tinkling laughter of water
As it joyfully bubbles over riverbed rocks
Heeding the unwavering call of gravity
Thankfully my life has seen such days as this
Unfettered by the world’s chaotic-ness
And doubly thankful again this precious day
That I’ve added yet another few peaceful hours
To my piggy bank of memories.
– Pat Bean
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