Oregon Christmas: The Discovery of Moss
You’ve probably noticed by now that (hopefully) all of the most recent posts here are tagged “Moss-Lined Oregon”.
What does Moss-Lined entail? Well, when we first moved here, I noticed this:
It’s different from anywhere else I’ve lived.
Well, no. I take it back. I found moss on rocks in a riverstream in New Mexico. It was on a camping trip where I created a fairyland with some younger kids there and lots of imagination. But certainly not in the city.
The weather here is windy and drizzly, but when it’s not either of those, it’s like the winter warmth in New Mexico. Blue sky, one-layer weather. With socks. But much greener; even though the trees are sleeping, the grass is thriving. Odd–it was brown in the summer because no one here has sprinkler systems, and in the winter, the sky does the work. Quite opposite of New Mexico, and in Utah? Well, it’s green beneath the all the snow piles. I wonder if Tom would ever read this; I heard he made it to this area much earlier than I did.
And speaking of red and green alongside my feet–I wish all who read a Joyful, Contented Christmas–from Moss-Filled Oregon.