I'm sitting in Good Bean, the best seat in Jacksonville, Oregon. To my right, a table of middle-aged folks discuss the Rogue Valley and its idiosyncrasies. Across the cafe, someone's editing a video and drinking a house coffee. I know the baristas working behind the counter because I went to high school with them. I ran into an old friend on her way out and we had a good catch-up conversation. Some tourists just walked in- they're here for a Britt Festival concert.
I'm sipping my black c-coffee, waiting for my best friend to finally text me back. Isn't life good? The local life, the kind we all take for granted.
I look out the windows and all I see are the tips of evergreens. There are LOTS of evergreens where I live, and I appreciate them all. I'm so in love with the Rogue Valley. My world exists between the peaks of Mt. Ashland and Mt. McLaughlin, and that is what makes me who I am today. Yeah, a few trips to France and many months in the Midwest may have had a little influence, but I am, and Lord-willing always will be, an Oregonian.
Friday, July 13, 2012
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