One chilly April I camped for several
days in Oregon’s Willamette National
Forest. The landscape was green, the trees
dripped moss, yet the forest felt dry and
crunchy.
I plan to return someday, perhaps later in
the year, when it is warmer and not quite
so windy.
Now that tract of forest, along with
hundreds of thousands of acres, is in a
time of post-fire rebuilding, growing
towards some version of its former self.
I’m less certain I will visit the Willamette
again.