I went back. Back to that ranch in the hills above the Columbia River Gorge. This time, I was just passing through at the end of the day. This time, as with the other visits this spring, it was well worth the detour and pause. The balsam arrowroot blooms have expired: graduated to seed heads. The grass has just a bit more brown, mixed in with the sweet spring sprigs. Still, warm spring days are beginning to suck the life from the stalks and it won’t be long before the vista is golden as far as the eye can see. We can also expect the spring storms to abate and with them sunsets such as this, with Oregon, off in the distance, blushing under the cloud cover. This vast expanse of grass will become an oven soon enough and even the Columbia River, hidden here in the folds of the land, may not be big enough to quench your thirst if you chose to visit in the next quarter. But on this eve, the view satisfies my hunger and my thirst for being in an open and wild place.