What Fertile Soil Can Do for a Gal

The soil is fertile here in the Pacific Northwest, just they way you picture it would be in the world’s largest temperate rainforest. We, as humans, are definitely a part of nature, but it seems to take us quite a bit longer to adapt to our surroundings. At least to the point of feeling settled, like, say, a pine cone can adapt and settle from its former tree to the forest ground.

Perhaps it’s all of the extraneous stuff we bring to the new place; books and beds, couches and chairs, dishes and coffee pots, plus the TV, armed with blankets and pillows and clothes and candles, we arrive to a new place called home with not just ourselves, but our belongings, all looking for a place to be. To settle.

But finally, settle, we have. It has been fairly easy, really. Because people are smart here, across the board. And creative. And open, curious, and interesting. They like to read books, and have decent, if not totally elevated, senses of humor. While I realize this is a huge generalization just longing for pointed fingers to examples of people who do not fit my nicely crafted mold, it seems that the general vibe of the human species here is remarkable. And I haven’t yet mentioned the amazing food, coffee, wine, and general love of music found at every turn. And I mean EVERY turn.

Nor have I touted the amazing natural wonders that is Oregon herself. I have kept quiet about the beauty of our region – the Pacific Northwest, and the endless opportunities for discovery on a natural level.

At times, I feel like I have lived here forever, while simultaneously, it’s as if I am deep inside a dream. Perhaps there IS something to that whole follow your bliss thing. From where I’m perched at the moment, this Campbellian way of life has bestowed so many gifts upon me that I am continuously rendered breathless. So if I am lost in a dream, I beg of you, don’t wake me up.