Buckshot Gusts
It’s been horrid outside. Pelting rain, sideways, sounding like buckshot on window panes. It’s really annoying. I’ve been contemplating on giving my camera a shower, a beating like no other. Psychotic wind gusts are howling insanities, going from kinda nifty to quite disturbing.
Just another showery day in the Willamette Valley.
I’m posting an older pic, one from I believe this last fall? Or late summer. It was a good weekend trip, no pain, no problems, everything was great. Dad and I found a few ancient fishing shacks (“Those are actually huts there Paul”) along the river. This was in The Dalles, largest city in Wasco County. Wasco country. That’s what Wasco County amounts too, nothing but country.
This is thee original. So deep thinks thy artist. I just remember it being a feel good kind of morning. I had wiped our cameras sensors squeaky clean the night before, using bathroom dish soap, all while dad edited on a laptop he found in the hotel lobby. Some Sasquatch show was on TV (“Shout out to Timothy, yo!”), with neither of us paying much attention.
You took that foto in october, on the 28th.
Which was a sunday around 9:00am.
And all you kept saying all weekend.
It’s a nice day in the valley, if you’re a Duck.
Wasn’t there an indian living down by the river? I do remember the salmon beaching themselves, and Daisy going by on a float, like in a parade.
You must not of taken your medication today, that was Leg’s dragging a barge up stream.
That was Leg’s? I remember torches being lit.