Written November 1st, 2018:
On October 30th, 2018; Dawn and I met at Kelley Park.
Located at the confluence of the Colombia and Willamette’s rivers; the dynamic tension of these fierce rivers colliding, reverberates directly in the hollowed ground which pronounces defiance against the coming vindication of cold pressured waters.
Dawn began the conversation by asking me how I’ve been. She knows I’ve started pelvic physical therapy and the last time we spoke I was feebly processing.
We started our walk reading the park information and as I ruminated the word confluence pondering its greater significance … Dawn brought up one of her favorite plants growing in this region cottonwood . It took massive restraint to allow her to continue gracefully as connect deeply with cottonwood. I used to be allergic. I’m not sure anymore🤔. I find their mystic charming and practical.y ancestors have used cottonwood in quite resourceful ways.
Accomplishing some grace, Dawn described her fascination with cottonwood:
Cottonwood blooms on late winter and is harvested after a winter storm smashes and breaks the plant. What’s cool is that you don’t have to do any work to harvest cottonwood.
You’ve able to make teas with the buds to help with colds and aches.
We chit chatted about the exact timing of these blooming wonderful phenoms. I noted the importance of the confluence of the storm and cottonwood being significant to what type of ailment a niche may posses.
Kelly Park’s river bed produced this one of a kind and unique … I don’t even know a name for it ! Like a tide pool, instead of rock, it’s grass 🤯
Each tree is characterized by what Dawn coins, “mangy”ness. I got a chuckle from relating the trees to the tide pool swamp to mangy trees. It was a blast laughing and making jokes about the “character” of trees.
On a serious note, my complex PTSD was cycling bc my instinct for danger was high as soon as I arrived. If you’ve perceived and experienced what I have for one step, it isn’t as scary when you’re prepared.
That gut feeling was accurate as we found a needle on the beach. I couldn’t leave that place until we figured out how to dispose of it properly because their are children that come on this shore for field trip. Even so, it’s wrong – evil and I can’t Abide in it, nor leave that spot until the evil was disposed of … challenge accepted !
It was a challenge because there were no “sharps disposal” or a safe place to clean this mess up!
Like Mami always says,
A messy room is a messy head !
I recommend a “sharps disposal” and more trash services at Kelley Park. How else are our little Smokey the Bear children going to enjoy freedom?
I’m simply asking so I can do the necessary good.
We ended up giving it to God. He’s got it from here.
Trash can please, at Kelley Park. I don’t like having panic attacks on my walk.