Just off the road: Harris Bridge
Leaves from the big-leafed maples shine on the
damp road like gold nuggets as the sun nudges
the clouds aside for a last hurrah before sunset.
On my way home from visiting Fred at the nursing
home in Albany, I just have to stop and capture
the fall colors before they are gone.
I turn off Highway 20 just past Philomath at the
road to King's Valley, then follow the sign to the
tiny town of Wren. A sign points toward a winery
and the Harris Bridge, one of Oregon's historic
covered bridges. The road winds 2.3 miles south
through red, gold and orange-leaved trees among
the evergreens. I pass pastures where horses and
cows graze. The pavement turns to gravel, and my
tires slip on the wet rocks, but I persist.
The end is worth the drive. I find a white house lit
up by the yellow leaves, a sturdy white-painted
bridge dated 1929 and the red wooden home of
room is closed, the vines bare, but the view is spectacular, with railroad tracks leading to great adventures, Mary's River trickling under the solid boards of the old bridge, and wildflowers rising up from the brush. On the other side of the bridge, the road curves. I see cows and wonder just how far this road goes.
Everywhere I look is another photo. I click in every direction, wary of my weakening camera battery and the fading sunlight until I have drunk as much of this beauty as I can stand, a nectar that heals the pain of leaving my husband behind every week. I climb back into my car and drive back to the highway, heading west into the sunset and the next blast of rain.
Fred report
Albany, doing as well as can be expected. His
Alzheimer's is slowly taking him away. All we can do is
keep loving him. I promised a photo of him with his new
goatee, and here it is. Who knew he had dimples under
all that beard? If you're thinking of buying him a
Christmas gift, how about a funny card and a
contribution to the Alzheimer's Association in his
name?
Words and music
It looks like I've made it into the upcoming anthology A
Cup of Comfort for a Better World. It's due out next
spring, and it will be fun promoting it. Otherwise, I'm
still working on the same projects, blogging at the
same blogs, and playing a lot of church music. I sprained my wrist early last month and that slowed me down a bit. But I also collected lots of details for a future one-handed character. My guitar, damaged a few months ago when it crashed into a mic stand, was in the shop last month, so we both had to take some time off. The guitar is back now, and I can play again. Just in time to learn some Christmas music. If you're anywhere in or near Lincoln County, OR, I'm available. I'm cheap. I'm good.
Writer events
The Oregon coast branch of Willamette Writers will host a memoir workshop with Ellen Urbani on Tuesday, Nov. 3 at the Newport Library. If you don't make it for that, put Dec. 1 on your calendar. Cheryl Strayed will discuss creative nonfiction that evening. December will also mark my last month as a member of the Willamette Writers board. Dorothy Mack and I founded the branch four years ago, and I'm looking forward to just being a member for a while. We meet on the first Tuesday of every month at 7 p.m. Admission is free. Just come.
Meanwhile Writers on the Edge, presenters of the Nye Beach Writers Series, has a special event this month. Instead of their usual Saturday, they will meet Friday, Nov. 13 at the Newport Yacht Club for a performance by Grammy winner Don Henry and songwriter Craig Carothers. Tickets are $10 in advance, $12 at the door. See the WOE website for details.
Book report
Psalm of the Sunflower by Antoinette Brim, Aquarium Press, 2009. Brim, a classmate of mine at Antioch, has a gift for beautiful yet powerful poems, like the rush of cool water over granite. Her first collection of poems is one to keep close at hand and read whenever inspiration lags. Each line is so well-formed it could stand alone. There's a dignity infused with love here, and I heartily recommend this book. Brim has already won awards and will continue to shine from among the crowds of MFA graduates. She is also a professor and a mother. Those lucky enough to learn from her are truly blessed.
Too Lazy to Work, Too Nervous to Steal: How to Have a Great Life as a Freelance Writer by John Clausen, Writer's Digest Books, 2001. Beyond the delightful title, Clausen offers 207 pages of information and inspiration for freelance writers. He intertwines straight how-to with his own experiences and those of other successful writers who plunged into the business and flourished. One of the ways he pays the bills is by writing advertising, junk mail and press releases for various companies, and he tells us how to do it. For those of us who would rather not get involved in business writing, there's still plenty of good information on how to make it in magazines, newspapers and other media. This book is straightforward, optimistic, and very useful.
The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion, audiobook, Highbridge Co., 2005. Her daughter was already in the hospital with a flu that turned to pneumonia that turned into a life-threatening infection when her husband dropped dead of a heart attack at the dinner table. This book is Didion's attempt to make sense of what happened and her reaction to it. Although a sad story, The Year of Magical Thinking is a valuable meditation on death and grief. Didion makes great use of ordinary details as she takes us through what happened and her study of what others have said about the process of coping with loss. It is beautifully written, often poetic.
Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford, Ballantine Books, 2009. This is one of the best books I have read in years. It's the story of Henry, a Chinese boy living in Seattle's Chinatown, and Keiko, living in Japantown, who meet as the only two Asians at an all-white school, become friends and eventually fall in love. Pearl Harbor has just been attacked by the Japanese, World War II is raging, and the Japanese are the enemy. It is not a good time to be friends with a Japanese girl. Nor is it kosher for Henry, who loves jazz, to visit a black saxophonist who plays on the street corners every day. We follow Henry through the angst of discrimination against all Asians, a love that causes his parents to disown him, the loss of Keiko to the internment camps and more. The book travels back and forth between the 1940s and the 1980s, eventually bringing things together. Ford incorporates the history so beautifully it seems like a true story and that he must have been there. Hotel is his first published novel, and I look forward to many more.
End notes
October flew by, and it took summer with it. Rain has returned to the Oregon coast, along with wind and one spectacular lightning show. In the Willamette Valley, the orange, red and yellow leaves are slowly gathering on the ground, leaving the branches bare. This year I went crazy and bought Halloween lights. I may leave them hanging in my windows until it's time for the Christmas lights. Why not? Most stores are already selling Christmas decorations.
Happy November birthdays to Sandy and Tim. Happy Thanksgiving to all. Please send prayers to my friends Jessie and Mark who got very bad news from the doctors this month and to Pat and John who are being forced to sell their dream house. Lots of love to my nephew William who had a health scare last month but seems to be okay now.
Get out your woollies and count your blessings.
Hugs,
Sue
All contents copyright 2009, Sue Fagalde Lick
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