Finding Paradise Far, Far Away From Arizona

 Considering how long I've been at this RV traveler gig, if I still flutter my eyelashes and rhapsodize over certain things, I must be doing something right.  It is hard to resist becoming almost euphoric to escape the barrenness and brownness of the American Southwest, and come to the greenness and moisture-paradise of the inland Northwest.  But later in summer, it will be as dry here as the Southwest in spring.  That's why you must do what seems almost unnatural and force yourself out of the Southwest by, say, 15 March.

So here I am, in green grass and pretty clouds, along the Oregon Trail.

I don't know why the hills look greyish rather than lovely green in the video.  Depending on where you live, you might not think of pretty clouds as miracles of nature.  But I do.

I ran into something that was quite rare: a low-budget and sensible visitor area run by a government agency.  It had just the sort of improvements that added to the visitor's enjoyment, without over-management.  It even had prose that I admired!

My little dog can gambol over the green hills without running into cholla!  I can put my foot down on soil and find purchase, rather than slide around on rubble.

And wouldn't you know it!  After rhapsodizing like this, my van got stuck on a muddy road.

Even more than visual delights, I am listening to the meadowlarks in the grasslands where I am camped.