The scenery is gorgeous in Oregon's mountain passes. The sky was absolutely clear and the light was perfect when we drove through— every conifer stood out individually, each with its unique shade of green. The spreading madrone and the silvery alder provided counterpoint.
In the Willamette valley, it was interesting to see all the stages of the harvesting of grass seed: mowing, drying, winnowing, threshing out the seed, and then baling up the remaining straw. The bales were stacked on the edge of the fields.
The last few hours of the day, the traffic was stressful with one slow down after another. For some inexplicable reason, the mapping device had us do something crazy. It worked, but we were kind of nervous by the time we arrived.
We had dinner at Nonna Emilia's in Beaverton. This is your family-style Italian food—hearty, copious, rich. It was packed on a Friday night. A fellow made a stab at playing the piano and then serenading the tables with an accordion. Everyone loved it. A happy local scene.
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| Dan at Nonna Emilia's |
