Visiting Home

(Look in the center for the deer.)

We're geographically close to my mom and Jes' dad's family.  About 3 hours.  But in the winter, you can never tell if the mountain passes will be safe until the last minute, so we generally don't go very often when there's a chance they'll close and leave us stranded on the wrong side.  By April though, there's a pretty good chance they'll be fine, so we start traveling over.  And I'm always so glad we did, because there's something so startlingly beautiful about central Washington on the Columbia river, particularly in the Wenatchee Valley, just after the snow has melted and before the heat of summer has dried up all the non-irrigated greenery.

Entiat, the teeny-tiny town where I'm "from," has been putting a lot of work into its waterfront area.  There are plans for a hotel and restaurant, and the campground has been revamped (like completely razed and rebuilt from the dirt up.)  But my favorite part is the walking trail that extends for a few miles down the Columbia and then again up the Entiat River.  It's paved flat, with little areas that have been planted intentionally with native "wild" flowers and shrubbery, but still manages to feel unintentional and wild.

A couple of weeks ago we set out with my mom, my boys, and my nephew and walked about a mile (as far as the littlest one could go before he was too tired.)  Mom is forever calling to talk while she's on these long 5 or 6 mile walks along the river.  I was happy to go along and see her favorite--sometimes secret--spots.  I don't remember ever taking walks with my grandparents.  I'm so happy that my boys have a chance to hang out with their grandma.  And sometimes it's a nice reminder for me to slow down and take the time to just be with them.  A lesson we can all stand to have occasionally, I'm sure.