About the places we are passing through. The morning fog that surrounds the tent and bicycle each day allows me to reflect on the journey behind and days ahead. Bottled visibility strengthens one's imagination to conjure what’s around the next bend. The road climbs and descends as forests young and old create a patchwork of patterns across the land. Mountains in the distance float on the horizon as their snowcapped peaks become the rugged identity of each city and place we stop in. The Pacific pounds the shore against steep rock faces jutting out of its surface and deposits sand inland on mile deep beaches and dunes. Chipped paint on wooden barns and splintered fishing docks speckle farmland and gray harbors. Cedar shakes and coastal mist drift through the air as wind from the northwest pushes and pulls us through each winding turn. The sun breaks the fog each day at noon and opens our eyes to unknown possibilities. [B. Bolen]

1 comment:

  1. We enjoyed your music at the hostel in Seaside, Oregon. Glad to read everyone is happy and well and the adventure continues.