Shivering to Sleeveless in 24 Hours

Before I started to shiver in Wallowa County, eastern Oregon, where my friend Nani and I escaped over the weekend, I grabbed a few shots of my new courtyard now rich with flowing water and fall flowers and where, admittedly, you and I have not spent enough time kicking back.

Then suddenly, Nani and I were through the Blue Mountains and entering La Grange, OR in a bloody snowstorm! Nani grew up in Hawai'i and spent the next few glorious days swaddled in fleece. The landscape was, as ever, relentlessly gorgeous but the winds got so brutal, we had to curtail a hike on Saturday after getting chilled to the bone.

And then unexpectedly, before my Zoe Mae was able to fully realize her inner beast (I have pix to prove it), we were rushing back to Portland so I could make a last minute plane to Chicago where the weather is now fully summer and I'm back in sandals and a sleeveless top.

Global footprint? Embarrassingly large. Stimulus factor? Overwhelming. Sense of gratitude? Off the charts. These last few days have been peopled with astonishing characters everywhere I've gone, some of whom you'll be meeting in my late fall Morning Edition series, AMERICAN MOXIE: HOW WE GET BY.

Right now it's back to the future, with an image from my next destination where today's blog all began.

Red and center, a huge stalk of dahlia blew over and broke so I popped it in the fountain (I'm rethinking all the dahlias I planted so prominently because I don't want to look at stakes). Foliage highlights include black and green taro plus hardy banana to the far right. And that weird white thing on the fountain ledge is a candle; the set designer let that one slip.

photo credit: Ketzel Levine, NPR

 

9:02 AM ET | 10-14-2008 | permalink

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