Rolling past bright yellow waves of mustard fields among the green fields of rye grass and tall fescue, Oregon's spring pops in breathtaking fashion.
Vines…
When the snaps, crackles and pops of my campfire fall silent, the occasional hoots of Great Horned Owls echo through forest casting a spell on my soul.
…
This website uses cookies to improve your experience. We'll assume you're ok with this, but you can opt-out if you wish.
AcceptRead More
