Hello Friends and Gorge Neighbors,
It’s Friday night, almost dark and the rain is falling. I’m in The Station playing my ritualistic game of musical furniture. I wonder if the photographs will turn out with the dreary night setting in and no lights on.
Then it happens. A Mosier man makes a quick u-turn in his truck and heads back to The Station. “Hey, did you know it’s raining?” he calls out. Then he points out my car windows are rolled down, but perhaps that’s a good thing he says, noticing the fresh bags of kale piled on the front seat. Next he asks, “where do you want it?” as he begins lifting furniture while telling me stories.
A fellow Farmers’ Market volunteer steps in with her son and asks if I’d like a hot drink.
Friends come to the rescue and bring a 10 x 10 foot canopy down to create a nice “awning” over the entryway.
The gas station owner drops in and does his usual ribbing, “have you eaten; you have to eat. I’m headed to town. Can I fetch you something?”
The Gorge Grown Mobile Market lady hands me a crisp apple in the parking lot.
An ultra cool Mosier woman offers her super cool gutted Airstream to help create space for the ever increasing home furnishings being brought in.
A local dynamo couple help with my website, take my ’emergency’ calls, and will only accept a bottle of wine and chocolate, reluctantly.
The owner of Survival Gardens drops off my fresh veggie order and offers samples of his freshly dehydrated pears.
This is life in the Gorge.
This is the stuff that matters.
Tonight I wondered if I could find the energy to update the website with your new consignments, and post pictures and write you a note.
I didn’t have anything clever to say. I just wanted to be quiet. So I sat. And I remembered all these lovely encounters. And now I feel happy and grateful and my work is done.
Maybe I’ll see you ’round The Dwelling Station this weekend.