It has been brought to my attention that the dates posted on this blog are difficult to follow. I know; I haven’t been able to follow them either. The blog website inserts the date I post it, and the post may include several past days of experience. Also, the reverse chronological order can be puzzling to negotiate.

Since it is easy enough to see that a new posting has been added, never mind about the dates. We’ve discovered in the day-to-day routine, deep in the Oregon woods, that we tend to remember the experiences, and not exactly when they happened. (Friends our age will recognize the convenience of this method.)

Yesterday, there was a forest fire between here and Chiloquin (where Tom bought the banana bread). Smoke did reach the park, but did not affect the boat tours.

Then late in the day, the sky turned the color of apricot sherbet. The wind whipped up, and everyone rolled up their awnings, and brought inside their plants, chairs, etc. Lightning and rain led us to think we were in for a major storm. But it never came, and this morning, the skies are clear blue again. Forest fires are plaguing the west, but none have seriously threatened this area.

FINALLY, the captains received the shoulder bars for their epaulets. This definitely gives them more of an air of authority, which is important safety-wise. And it does promote more attention when Tom walks in the gift shop or restaurant – he enjoys this attention from kids, and from twenty-somethings in mini-skirts! Captain Gene and Captain Tom→

On a day-off this week, Tom and I drove the road that encircles the lake. This is a must for everyone who comes to Crater Lake. Perfect photo spots abound. Tom has seen all this from the water, but now he saw all from atop. It was hard to photograph the baby eaglet in the treetop nest near the water, but we could see it well through binoculars.

Going clockwise around the rim, we often saw stunning vistas of the valleys and mountains beyond Crater Lake. It is truly a bird’s eye view.

Up here, interests and excitement are pursued differently, more simply, than in the city. There, we go to a concert, a party, a nice restaurant. Here, though, it is exciting to see an eagle's nest, to watch the stately trees dance in the mountain-top breeze, and to see how nature has made “sculptures” in the whitebark pine branches. And there is nothing quite like listening to the sound of wind blowing through a pine forest.

A friend mentioned to me that she was going to start worrying if I began to post photos of ferns. Not to worry - dead whitebark pine sculptures are much more interesting than ferns.