Thursday, August 15, 2013

An Open Love Letter (to Bend, Oregon, Cascadia)

Dear Bend,

Ten years ago today,  I turned to Al Townsend as we drove a red truck with all our belongings, a one year old Husky-Pom, and a grumpy old tabby cat up Highway 97 from California, and I said, "I'm thinkin' Bend."

I don't know why.  Maybe because an old friend of Al's had lived in Bend for a few years and said good things about it.  Maybe because when we pulled in to town Bela Fleck and the Flecktones were playing at the Athletic Club and it reminded us of Nashville and we translated it as a sign.  Maybe cause it seemed smaller and less intimidating than Portland, which was gonna be the last stop.  Maybe because of the smell of the ponderosas.  Maybe the view of the Cascades.  Maybe I just heard you calling to me, Bend.   If that is the case, none of this is a surprise to you.

If I know anything in this world, anything at all, is that I love you.  I could never have imagined all the adventures you would hold for me, or the people that you would help position in my life.  I don't want to embarrass you or anything, but I wanted you to know.  Who knows if I will ever leave you, for good, I don't want to predict the future.  But right now, I wanted to thank you.  Thank you for being a safe place, a beautiful place, a challenging frustrating invigorating freezing scorching beguiling boring magical heartbreaking and life-building place.

Thanks, and Love, and Gratitude.

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