GastroNom

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Plant the seeds
Or till the sod,
You’ll find our
Homely gastropod.

He ate my frisé,
Peas and beans,
Chowed all the leaves
And in-betweens.

Then slimed away,
Full fed and smug.
Next week’s menu?
Salted slug.


I’m not sure why Oregon has a state microbe (brewer’s yeast), but not a state mollusk. Specifically, why isn’t the slug serving in some official capacity? Lord knows we have enough of them. We could encase them in decoupage and sell them as souvenirs. I say it’s time we force this lazy garden grifter into some real responsibility. I just haven’t figured out how to keep the tiny sashes on yet.

The Geologic Equivalent to Waking Up Dressed Like a Disney Princess with Sharpie Drawings on Your Face

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the Erratic Rock
got stoned with Canadians
woke up in Oregon


This 36-ton Canadian rock sits on the top of a short hill in Yamhill County, Oregon.  It was carried here, likely encased in glacial ice, during the pre-historic Missoula floods.  There’s a very brief hike to get to it, long enough for your kids to think there might be something other than a rock to look at when you’ve arrived.

I adore the Erratic Rock, because the idea of a boulder acting unpredictably, even whimsically, is so delicious.  I like to think it rebelled against its Canadian mountain parents and hitched a ride.  “You guys don’t understand me!  I’m different, I don’t want to hold up a mountain for the rest of my life!!”

Log

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what’s brown and sticky?
someone’s been walking their tree
oaken excremEnt


I once seriously considered starting a Tumblr of “Toys that look like turds.”  I had small children and small geriatric dogs at the time, and scouring the carpeting before you stepped was a necessary habit.  This beautiful work of nature is about 18″ long, so I have to conclude it’s Ent droppings.  Guess they need to install one of those DogSpot bag dispensers in Fangorn.

Submirage

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if I fall in now
will I float or will I fly?
sinking up the sky


The Willamette River is a massive stretch of water.  On this morning, its stillness gave me more than a little vertigo, as if I was upside down and needed to immediately remedy that.

Petalsphere

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fragile floating lens
framing a fleeting moment
in iridescence


I used to spend a lot of time blowing bubbles with my toddlers in our soggy Oregon backyard.  These flowers were so damp, the bubbles would land on them and linger, sometimes until little fingers popped them with glee.

Suburban Legend

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don’t dip your toes there–
might not have toes if you do
‘ware the rockadile


I went for a very short walk in the woods where I’ve set The Tiny Giant, and I found this guy in the little stream, painted eye and all.  I stub my toe on some kind of magic every time I come down here.

That, or someone threw their pet alligator in the outhouse a very long time ago.