we drove along the methow river, which looked like this:

found our way to our cabin and went to dinner in nearby town of winthrop. fields aswarm w/ feeding deer.
the next am, the birds were like television. we found poem 3 ("ask me") right there in downtown winthrop. you'd never know it was there but it was, quietly sitting, waiting, a perfect little provocation.
a couple hours later we were on top of horses, riding up a steep ridge. it felt steep to me anyway. my heart thundered and was later quieted by IPA. ended up back in winthrop for dinner where we discussed the merits of provocation, the necessity of idealism, and the disbelief that we somehow engulfed a whole pizza.
next morning on way out we could not find next poem. had momentary urging to drive on but we stuck it out and turned around. parked at a trailhead and walked down a mountain path. found it ("where we are") beside a suspension bridge.

the last one was way up, at washington pass. when we got there the road was closed.
we parked the car and walked around the obstacle and headed toward where the poem must be. it was most difficult to find and most rewarding. "a valley like this".
we got in car and made the long drive home...
some pix are here
1 comment:
that was a great trip.
thanks for posting this.
xo
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