the unbridled wild

Today I spent the day on the banks of the Rogue River–worked some, crocheted in between and, at the end of the day, picked wildflowers.

I may not do things that most do with a day on the river–I don’t fish, row, hike. For that matter, I don’t even enjoy walking in nature’s wild and untamed terrain.

I like to just stay still and take in the unbridled aura of the wild. The beauty of colors splashed in abandon; the sound of water dashing on the rocks; the smells of the strange and unidentifiable.

I may not be built to live without my city comforts, but whether it’s one day by an Oregon river or a week in the mountains of Banff, I’m always awestruck by beauty untouched by the urban.

(My Oregon wildflowers are sitting in the antique enameled measuring cup I bought at a Goodwill store the summer we spent a week in Banff)

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