Interstate-5 begins at the border of Canada and, after paralleling the Pacific Ocean and connecting all three west coast capitals, it terminates at the border of Mexico. It passes just on the other side of the little hills you see here, between Corvallis and Eugene, Oregon.
Every time I travel that mighty highway I think how nice it would be to pull over, climb to the top of a basalt-laden hill and with knees-to-chest, spy upon those who live there. Who are they? What do they do? Can they hear my car as I speed past?
I didn't hear I-5 at all. The peonies, however, were a cacophony of color and scent.
The sound of country music was dominant.
Weddings are lovely events, and I especially like it when they occur outside. Back in the day, they were mostly conducted within churches but I like this so much better. It's much more personal.
|A candid shot of the photographers, taken from far away, of course.|
I wouldn't want to be a wedding photographer though: all that pressure of getting the perfect shot and capturing every moment? No thanks.
|The bride's little girls, now in a newly-formed family, watching the first dance.|
Much better to be a simple guest, dilly-dallying around, taking it all in, photographing some things but not others. Yes, I had a good time there, just east of I-5, where life was full and happy. A great day, and so much fun to be an observer in a place I've wondered about.