Portuguese Bar

Hawaiians would think that title is a lead in to a joke, but it isn't - river bars you can camp on are called bars - this one is on the Klamath River, in some convoluted, high mountains, and
full of blackberries and grape vines. Go figure-some pioneer left grapes. In the middle of nowhere are signs that say "no monument'. Okayyy. What we wanted was a place to cool the dogs as Medford had been 103, shades of Az, and I even got in to fight the current and lolled around. Peace, tranquility and prayer time to heal elders hurting from operations and family discord was found here. People who are taught to meditate are told to focus on a mantra or a sound, and the rapids were soothing away huge concerns about lack of honor in family doings. After awhile, nothing was important here except what was for dinner.
We climbed out of this valley on another heartstopping road that curved up and around so many times that I feared the dogs would get car sick, and back down into the cool of the coastal redwoods. Away from family dramas and into a new mindset: peace at any price means more of what is available at Portuguese Bar - and that is coming up.
Forgiveness of all things is possible when you have time to think and let solitude work it's magic. Distance and sending messages of love and peace are necessary to keep the mind tranquil when that other stuff of life is trying to rock the boat. Making choices is important, minute by minute at times, not to escape, but to remember that like that river, it all changes over time. Forgetting, now, is another matter.