1980 we spent the entire year, all twelve months, on the avocado ranch. It was our magical time in paradise. We were alive then with youth, not quite knowing how happy we were.
Those who made the effort to witness sunrise from Mt. Cadillac in Acadia National Park in the 1960s could become certified members of the “Sunrise-From-Mount-Cadillac Club.”
Along the I-84 corridor in the Columbia River Gorge a host of waterfalls beckon travelers to ease out of the interstate’s river of traffic to witness a scenic spectacle of falling waters.
The inequities of our investment in food stability seem distant from the calm Ohio landscape. For now all is well on the farm, where at least a few hardworking Americans have earned their good lives.
Veterans of the American Revolution are buried in the cemetery at Mount Tabor Church in Ohio, which al so has graves of Civil War soldiers and veterans of the War of 1812 as well as both World Wars.
The historic Mount Tabor Church and Cemetery bears the names of unremembered lives, many more now anonymous as time, and weather, and neglect have defaced and crumbled their once-proud stone markers.
Acadia National Park offers unique attractions that have made it a premier destination, and, despite my initial ambivalence, I am glad to have gone there. It is a treasure not to be missed.
The difference between pilgrims and tourists is a perennial question. The best answer I have found came from a conversation with Peter Brown.
Mountain man Joe Meek’s first summer of fur trapping in 1829, which put him among the earliest of non-indigenous people to enter Yellowstone.
Recent posts that review Kaniksu: Stories of the Northwest by Thomas F. Lacy, an engaging memoir of the Kaniksu of northern Idaho and the Lolo of western Montana in the 1920s and 1930s; and our monthly pilgrimage to Poplar Tree Lake in Meeman-Shelby Forest State Park to view the full moon rising ♨