rdeck something along the lines of, "I don't think we're in Kansas any more, Toto". The landscape change is phenomenal. At first it was just the colours (by the way the mountains are spectacular with something bright scarlet-leaved, spilling down the mountainsides and surrounding the trees, as though the Cascades are pouring lava down their slopes) which changed from the dark greens of the conifers (with a touch of that scarlet) to a mix of lighter green and gold, to golden brown as far as the eye can see. Old worn hills folded into shapeless forms like a carelessly dropped scarf, no sharp edges, everything smooth and folded and old and gold, and far too much sky.
We made Yakima some 4 hours after we set off, four and a half if you add in the pit stop we made in a Real! Honest-to-goodness! Trucker! Pit stop! Diner! (it boasted a stone fireplace wrought in the shape of a turtle. Wearing a hat. A stone sombrero. I kid you not.) The place was flat, and folded, and old, and gold, and cool - and it promises to turn COLD tomorrow. Maybe I should have brought gloves.
I have a presentation to a conference of school librarians tomorrow, and then a repeat of that early on Saturday morning (8:30? Really? You kidding me? Are people going to be awake enough to actually be able to take anything in? Am *I* going to be awake enough to present a coherent presentation...?) and then a booksigning organized by a local bookstore straight after that, and then, at some time between 11 AM and noon, we're heading back across the pass.
I will sure be glad to see my cedars again. But in the meantime we're ensconced in a Yakima hotel waiting for the conference to hit its stride tomorrow. Will let you know how many make it to Saturday morning. Maybe I should announce a doorprize. To be given to someone who actually manages to ask a coherent question at that time in the morning....
More later. Signing off in Yakima.
