My best beloved and I took an impromptu trip outside of the city this past weekend. Got in the car on Sunday morning, and said “Where to?” We ended up heading east – out to the Gorge. It was one of those leisurely excursions where you take the time to explore – follow little roads just to see where they lead. The magnificent Columbia River Gorge is an eyeful at almost any time, but especially so on a crisp autumn day, when the sky is so blue it almost hurts, and leaves all around are turning all kinds of colors. I lazily turned the camera every which way, during our exploration.
As anyone who has experienced it can attest – the scale of the enormous Gorge has the capability to make you feel appropriately dwarfed. It looks big, it feels big, and it IS big. But everywhere we looked, there were little humans just like us, crawling about in their own vessels of choice. Barreling through high up above, floating on the water, trudging on along the tracks, and in shiny metal cans called cars. Our collective bustle seemed so at odds with the ancient serene enormity of the landscape itself. It was an interesting contrast to observe.