PUSHING SOUTH FOR HOME

Jim drove a long stretch that brought us to Springfield, Oregon. The weather was beautiful, and warm.  We set up in a barren Moose Club parking lot. After lunch, Jim took a long nap after partying with the Eagles the previous night until 9:00. We're boring after 7:00 p.m. Didn't do anything but read and I finished a really gripping book, Stones From The River, by Ursula Heigi.


I was rummaging through some pictures this morning and remembered seeing this spinner. It is a triple. Up close it is just a flat burgundy color but when all three parts flash in the wind, it becomes a thing of beauty.


They are kind of magical the way they reveal hidden colors and constantly move. I have no real needs in my life other than enough to eat and a steady supply of books, but if I ran into one of these, I'd buy it. It is called the Hummingbird.


The middle section spins a single...

...to a double heart, over and over again.  The bottom heart has hearts.

Kind of silly, but I stared at it and took pictures until I caught the movement at its best display.
The camper told me he bought a motor for it so it spins constantly. He too is mesmerized by the spinner. He bought it from a guy in the park who made them. The guy  has since moved on. Dang.

I'm cooking Mexican rice tonight, it is an earthy food, simmering in the pot. It sustains whole countries as their basic food. So here then look at rice through the eyes of poet Mary Oliver:

I don't want you just to sit at the table.
I don't want you just to eat, and be content.
I want you to walk into the fields where the water is shining, and the rice has risen.
I want you to stand far from the white tablecloth.
I want you to fill your hands with mud like a blessing.

We move to Rogue River State Park today as we push relentlessly for home.