Letter from Oregon

    I wrote the following in a letter while Reed and I were on a trip to the Oregon coast four years ago:

         This is the Oregon I go to in my mind, not the roar of traffic, but the roar of the ocean, of thick, quiet trails between moss covered trees, vines and blossoms and everything green and growing and fragrant. That is the Oregon I came to for the first time, the Oregon I left home for, the place where I fell in love for the first, and last, time.