Driving south on Highway 5 was in bloom with everything: sheep, vineyards, fruit trees, and all the fall colors I came here to see. At dinner tonight, I learned that the three dominant yellows and reds are Maple, European Birch, and Alders.
Mornings are my favorite times, and I took a couple of detours to ride in the farmlands and take pictures of horses and trees in the mist. Everything looks so perfect and clean and intentionally laid out, with no billboards--so what you see is what's there, the swaying of leaves, the animals moving slowly in fields. If you pull over and look out the window, it's like a painting on rice paper in the early morning, then again at dusk.
You see mountains in every direction driving through this valley, all the way to where I just stopped for the night in Grant's Pass. Thanks to my mini-detours and the slow speed limit of 65, it takes a while to reach stopping places, but every miles is beautiful. A woman in Eugene today recommended I go to Ashfield tomorrow to see the town and maybe soak in the hot springs, so I'll be heading that way in the morning.
Every day on the road is a looking day, and what I often do is to choose something to look for. Today it was horses; another day it was the color red; another day, reflections.
I got this idea years ago taking a photography class taught by Trish Simonite. She had us take a whole roll of film focusing on one color. I chose blue. I have long forgotten the pictures I took, but always remembered the assignment.
The next day, when I'm looking for another thing, I see that other thing everywhere--but keep seeing the horses from the day before, too.
It's amazing how much we miss that's all around us on home turf. I'm hoping to return home with this keener vision that I always find traveling in new places.
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