A Path And Some Philosophy

Yesterday, I walked down a path in Rogue Elk Park adjoining the Rogue River.  Glad to leave the campground, I looked at the natural world surrounding me.  Yes, maybe fifty plus years ago I was walking down a path, but at that time it was with my Grandma Lillian.  And we weren’t walking in Rogue Elk Park, but in Casey State Park.  I remember her pointing out to me the different sizes and shapes of pine cones and the pine needles scattered along the path.  We picked up several objects of interest, and these became the basis for our hobby shows that we put on for several years at Eastin’s Rogue Haven.

My grandparents had begun coming to Southern Oregon for their summer vacations in 1929, and continued visiting regularly with the exception of the war years.  They stayed originally at Casey’s Auto Camp with no electricity.  And now, I represent another generation that visits Southern Oregon.  All these thoughts from a path along the Rogue River on a sunny afternoon on August 4.