The Narrative Image

(So, yeah, it’s just an attention grabbing title.) 0% containment vs. 11% containment Many people commented on last week’s pictures of fire in the Columbia Gorge, expressing grief and sorrow that the gorge would never be the same. The hellish orange outlines spreading before the wind were all too reminiscent of those hot embers we study in the heart of our campfires, leading one to believe that morning light would reveal only a valley of charcoal and ashes. But when morning finally did come, the gorge was hidden by heavy blankets of smoke, and so I was unable to determine the consequences of what I had seen in the night. It was frustrating — and it still is. The fire, as of this writing, is still only 11% contained. That means somewhere amongst the trees, a fire that can spread from Cascade Locks to Corbett in an evening, is feeding and biding its time, just waiting for a favorable wind. Monday was a clear and sunny day with not much wind. I decided to retrace my rou...

“When I'm sampling from your bosom / Sometimes I suffer from distractions like / Why does God cause things like tornadoes and train wrecks?” - Crash Test Dummies Heritage Landing is strategically placed near the confluence of the Deschutes and Columbia rivers. Pulling into the parking lot, I noted that there was only one other car and it might as well have been abandoned, considering all the other people that I saw, which was none. The sun was hot enough that I imagined skinny or fit young people might do things like take their shirts off in public and try to get some color. It was considerably more nipple-y in the shade. The river was benign if not friendly and inviting. The surface of the water was wrinkled by waves, like a forehead thinking about something, but not thinking about it all that hard. I prepared the kayak and wiggled into my new dry-suit. I’d been saving up for one ever since my trip to San Juan Island where The Oracle explained to me that my...