Didn't you get the memo?
Here, some of the secluded trail leading from the parking area and visitor information kiosk, to the falls themselves. You could hear the falls clearly in the distance, and the noise reverberating in the woods added some sense of discomfort to the experience of the visit. The white noise from the falls prohibited your Doppler effect from determining where other noises were coming from. As a result, you had the strange experience of having other visitors seemingly pop out of nowhere and suddenly be right off your shoulder, looking for themselves.
Like Morpheus...walking the path. "Don't think you are...Know you are."
The falls. Spectacular. Salt Creek Falls are the tallest in Oregon.
Just downstream from the falls, the air filled with mist and spray generated by the pounding water. Note the vegitation changes apparent nearest to the water...the lushness afforded by the constant spray.
Mother/Daughter, checking it out.
Daughter.
"Isn't it grand, Dear? The falls? The day? Isn't this just a grand day to be together at the falls?" she asked. Always asking.
"Hmmm?" I replied
"Oh Dear, do pay attention!" she quipped snottily. Her nostrils flared in the breeze.
"Oh Dear, do pay attention!" she quipped snottily. Her nostrils flared in the breeze.
The Breeze was good. The nostrils, not so much. I was reminded of the laundry. The laundry that the old ripe women would hang to dry. In Pamplona.
"Yes" I said. "Lets get drunk."
2 comments:
"Lets get drunk."
Amen.
To my knowledge BUNDY is not a first name, but Ted was indeed one of the Sunshine State's worst serial killers. He bludgeoned two girls to death just across the hall from where I once lived.
Oregon looks spectacular and Jane is very cute.
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