This swelling of love surges — I run my hands over the long, supple grass that has overtaken the landscape. I look out past the trail. There is grass and more golden grass, and then a little further beautiful rolling hills.
I am in Oregon. It seems that everything has changed.
They call Oregon the people mover — they say that you fly through the state. It is flat, they say, and you can race across miles.
I have been wondering about Oregon for some time. Why is it so fast? Can I do the two week Oregon challenge? Is any hiking easy?
And now that I am here, I see what they are saying. It is a beautiful landscape, and something has definitely changed. Instead of the tough short and steep or long and sustained climbs of Northern California, this state offers rolling hills. There are entire miles where you don’t really go up or down. Instead, you soak up the grasslands and the woods.
I’m chugging along through it all with Felix, who started singing today. I took the lead, something I am not always terribly happy to do, and she followed behind, throwing on her iPod and letting loose.
Her voice is a tuneless sweep across the airwaves, coming into my ear flat or sharp and jostling the tiny bones in my ear canal into notes of happiness. It is entirely charming.
And so I continue trotting across the grass, filled up with love and music and beauty. Oregon, I adore you!
