Wind and Oregon Sunshine (Eriophyllum lanatum), Columbia River GorgeThe sun shone on us today. Mount Hood was a white triangle pasted against the blue sky. To the north, to balance the massive cone, Mount Adams stretched its rounded crown above the layered basaltic cliffs of the Columbia River Gorge, at times appearing to be no more than a cloud. Below the river flowed, transporting its cargo of sediment plucked from mountain peaks, moving it ever closer to its destination at the junction of sea and shore. On its surface barges and boats purposefully moved westward. Floods and torrents. had torn at the edges of cliffs, sculpting and contouring their forms. But not only water had changed these lands. In the wake of Lewis and Clark, traders, settlers, visionaries and developers flowed. Roads and railroads line the corridor's sides. But hidden in the bustle of this day and age, a remnant of yesterday remains. A poetry of sinuous movement snakes its way west tucked close to the edges of precipitous drops lined with artistic stone arches. It climbs higher, winding through tall ponderosa or oak that part periodically to tantalize with glimpses of the spectacle below. The Historic Columbia River Highway carried us back and our minds could see days gone by. At Rowena Crest or the Mosier Tunnels, whether on foot or on bicycles, we could smell the same flowers and bask in the glow of the sun above or the share the same reflected brilliance of a humble round mound of the golden blossoms of Oregon Sunshine as those who had gone before.
Wind too was a part of the day. Pursued by a high-pressure ridge, sucked forward by a low and squeezed by rocky stone walls, its velocity rose. At the junction of water and air, a westbound current met an eastbound stream and the waves grew. Swarms of wind surfers gathered at the town of Hood River, their diaphanous sails like the wings of insects as they flew back and forth from bank to bank of the river.
