Ashland

As we traveled north from purgatory yesterday, the sky grew lighter and lighter until, finally, just outside of Portland, we actually began to see shadows!  Who’d have expected that shadows on their own could communicate such a sense of relief.  Surely, the sun was not too far away.

The four days of relentless, gray, eye-burning, unpleasant-smelling smoke felt like we were only steps away from hell.  If I believed in purgatory, I thought, this is what it would be like.  Relentless, enveloping, and an assault to every sense.  Plus, that ominous feeling of what might be just over the nearest mountain – the mountain that couldn’t be seen in the limited visibility.

But… now the promise of sunshine.  Or of rain.  Either way, it lightens our hearts to feel that we may be heading into a smoke free-er (emphasis on the er) today.  But, as they say, we are not completely out of the woods.  We have paused here in the Rose City so that Nyel can see his cardiologist early this morning.  I have high hopes that then we’ll head for home; Nyel is not as optimistic.

Portland

Meanwhile, thank goodness for ‘devices’ and social media.  We are feeling ‘so-far-so-good’ as to safety of family and friends and there have been a number of joyous “it’s raining!” notifications from home.  I’m not exactly sure why that is the news of the moment – unless there is an overwhelming threat of fire on the Peninsula, itself.  There was rain (not much, to be sure) in Ashland the last two days/nights we were there.  We didn’t see that it did much good locally.  Wet smoke seemed, if anything, denser than dry smoke.

So… off we go to the doctor.  Fingers crossed that we will be homeward bound by mid-morning!

The Bird Woman in “Mary Poppins”

Jane Darwell was eighty-four years young when Walt Disney personally tapped her for the role of the Bird Woman in his 1964 production of “Mary Poppins.”  Although she appeared in more than 100 major motion pictures films in her lifetime, critics say she is best-remembered for that particular role and for her portrayal of the matriarch and leader of the Joad family in the film adaptation of John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath for which she received the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress.

Brave Goldfinch

These early mornings, its Darwell’s Bird Woman character I’m feeling very close to – not in the magical world of Mary Poppins but in my own marvelous world of Oysterville.  As happenstance would have it, I’ve been the one who has been feeding the birds in our nearby neighbors’ backyard each early morning for the last few weeks.  I walk across the churchyard, through a gap in the fences and into Carol and Tucker’s place, carrying my little tub of wild birdseed and, sometimes, a package of thistle seed – if the finch feeders need replenishing.

At first, the birds didn’t appear while I was within their sight, though I could hear a bit of flutter and flurry in the alder trees bordering the property to the southwest.  I knew they were watching and waiting for me to disappear so that they could have at the bounty I was distributing.  Gradually, though, they have become bolder.

The very bravest and first to show up while I was still at my scattering duties were the goldfinches.  One, two, three… as many as seven perched on the three feeders and on nearby tree branches.  They would only let me approach so far, though – not quite close enough for a good photo.  Not with my bare bones cell phone camera, anyway.

Hungry Jays

Next on the braveness scale were the jays.  For all their saucy talk, I’d have thought they would be the first.  But isn’t that often the way with the braggarts and blusterers of the world?  Finally, here came the juncos – lots of them.  Maybe they feel there is safety in numbers.  They seem to like the tops of the picnic tables best.  Perhaps they feel those tabletops offer a more direct flight back up to leafy safety.

The mourning doves are there, too, invisible but full of noise and whuffle.  They fly quickly from tree to tree, obviously watching, but apparently waiting to appear until I am well out of sight.  And, yesterday, a little gray squirrel joined the fun.  His eyes never left me as he picked up seeds and stuffed them in his cheeks – all quick decisive movements and with an attitude that said, “I’m outta here the minute you make a move in my direction.”

I’ll bet the Jane Darwell didn’t have half as much fun feeding the pigeons on the steps of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London as I do feeding the birds and other little critters within sight of the Oysterville Church.  Still… I feel a kinship.  Old ladies playing yet another of life’s enchanting roles!

H.A. Espy House and Barn, c. 1920

Another gray dawn here in Oysterville.  “It sure doesn’t seem like July,” I said. “In fact, it doesn’t even seem like summer yet.”

“Nope.  It’s not.  It’s the doctoring season,” was the somewhat grumpy response.

I agree.  We’ve had more doctor’s appointments these last four weeks than you can rattle a pill bottle at.  Three this week.  Beginning today.  All in Portland.  Two of them up-and-backs.  One a hospital overnighter and maybe longer.

This week, Nyel is in the spotlight – heart issues, mostly. I’ve done my share of out-of-town visits this season, as well.  But, praise be, mostly fairly mundane items – the dermatologist, the dentist, the ophthalmologist.  Check-ups and prescription adjustments – the patch, patch, patch of old age.  And always the accompanying mantra, “It beats the alternative.”

Steep Learning Curve

On the plus side is our shiny new Forester which sounds as though it should be dark green but, in reality, is Venetian Red Pearl according to Subaru.  I say it’s cranberry in color and pretty saucy, too.  We are still figuring out all the bells and whistles, safety-wise – which buttons to push for which kind of cruise control, adaptive or regular and what the warning ding-ding-dings are signifying when we don’t think we did anything.

Heading Out Once Again

Plus, we are trying to decide if we want to get the optional satellite radio station for an extra hundred and eighty bucks a year.  We have a few more free-trial months, but I’m inclining to ‘no.’  Their only folk station is online which doesn’t do us any good in the car.  That’s a deal-breaker for me in spite of the Willie Nelson channel that Nyel favors.  It’s amazing to me that of their 150 channels featuring every kind of music I ever heard of (and some I haven’t), there’s nothing devoted entirely to folk.  No channel that features Pete Seeger; or Peter, Paul and Mary; or Woody Guthrie or Joni Mitchel or Joan Baez or John Denver.  What the heck?

Oysterville Gothic 2017

So, along with a thermos of coffee (decaf – we’re old) we’re packing up our own personal top forty favorites – Fred Carter, Judy Eron, Cate Gable, Larry Murante, Randal Bays, Carolyn Cruso, RCMQ, Aaron English, The Willapa Hills, and, and, and…  We’re all set for the rest of the Doctoring Season – God willin’ and the creek don’t rise!