Wake me when we come to a curve in the road.
This is an Eastern Oregon dirt road near Jordan Valley, Rome and Leslie Gulch, just north of the Alvord Desert. Somewhere that has no name. A place that needs no name, but if I were to name it I would name it freedom.
I love that whole southeastern Oregon area. I wouldn’t mind at all living out there in a shack surrounded by sagebrush, invisible canyons and a sky as big as the whole wide world. In a place where everything is in the open and nothing is hidden by trees and mountains. A place where the coyotes sing all night long. A place where the wind runs free with the critters that dwell there.
I must admit that population density is a huge appeal for me. In the Owyhee country of southeastern Oregon it’s from 1/2 a person to 6 people per square mile, where in Multnomah County it’s from 81 – 203 people per square mile. :O Now don’t get me wrong. I love people, but I like people like I like beer, in metered amounts and in a relaxed situation. Too much of a good thing is just still too much. 😀
Eastern Oregon isn’t the only place that I get that feeling of freedom. Southern Utah is a place where I could hole up in a shack somewhere hard to find, and for the same reasons. Alaska is another place that I get the feeling of freedom in my soul. It’s the “Last Frontier”.
My soul is usually troubled when I’m in a city. My stress level increases to an uncomfortable level. It all feels so totally unnatural to me. I feel controlled, monitored and judged. The total opposite of a feeling of freedom.
I suppose cities have their place, but they aren’t my place. My place is where I can walk surrounded by natural beauty. A place where I have to stop breathing to hear the sounds that surround me. A place where I can close my eyes and feel surrounded by a peaceful presence. A place where the roads have no corners.
#oregon #easternoregon #randallpics