See those ripples? Jumping trout were here. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

First day of spring. In spite of COVID.

Barbara Ayers March 28, 2021

Looking back on March 2020:

Funny. It still looks the same. Out front. In town. On the trail.

In our dinky dog town - Mosier, Oregon. Population 430.

Columbia River style.

Rock Creek pond. In Mosier’s from yard. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

And the sky is still reflecting.

And the fish are starting to jump.

For joy.

And bugs.

And you only see a flitter -

but you hear the splash

and their ripples remain, long afterwards.

And after the cold and grey

and challenge of winter.

They return again.

To lift us up.

And we are reminded of what matters most.

On the winding trail ahead.

Behind.

This one.

This uncharted path.

And the ones we’ve walked for years.

Our old farmhouse, in the distance. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

And the layers.

Of lichen.

And light.

And life.

And in the distance…

our home.

Twin doxies. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

In spring, I get two dogs, for the price of one.

As my doxie and his shadow twin drag me along the trail.

And we’re not social distancing.

Doodle ‘n I. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

Nope. Not Doodle ‘n I.

We’re in it together.

As we humans reinvent the social norms -

of 6 feet away - or more.

And businesses are closed.

And we’re worried.

But I know we'll find each other.

I know we’ll invent new ways to show we care.

And new ways to care for each other.

Social media - a whole new meaning.

And PS, those huge rainbow trout in the pond right now are just spring crazy. Showing off.

Jumping for joy.

And bugs.

A great reminder.

Just when we’re getting all wrapped up in our human condition - Trout speaks up.

And makes us smile.

And just around the corner… sleep walking trees. And rusty dinosaurs.

Our home beach.

And kiters.

Like trout.

Just waking up.

Making up. Lost time. Free time. No time like this.

A couple brave kiters already out there. Getting big spring air.

Tiki Dude, Rusty the recycled toaster dog ‘n spring friends, in the yard.. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

There is no place like home.

We’re stuck here, after all.

But are we really stuck?

'Tis spring.

Easter almost.

We'll come back from this.

We daffodils.

We trout.

We reflections.

We can be stronger. Closer. And farther away, all at the same time.

We are one.

FIRST PUBLISHED MARCH 2020

- Barb Ayers, Emergency Manager, Hood River County (on my day off from COVID response)

Our GetReadyGorge.com website - to help your neighbors prepare. www.GetReadyGorge.com

First day of spring. In spite of COVID.

Barbara Ayers March 21, 2020

Funny. It still looks the same. Out front. In town. On the trail.

In our dinky dog town - Mosier, Oregon. Population 430.

Columbia River style.

And the sky is still reflecting.

And the fish are starting to jump.

For joy.

And bugs.

And you only see a flitter -

but you hear the splash

and their ripples remain, long afterwards.

And after the cold and grey

and challenge of winter.

They return again.

To lift us up.

And we are reminded of what matters most.

On the winding trail ahead.

Behind.

This one.

This uncharted path.

And the ones we’ve walked for years.

And the layers.

Of lichen.

And light.

And life.

And in the distance…

our home.

In spring, I get two dogs, for the price of one.

As my doxie and his shadow twin drag me along the trail.

And we’re not social distancing.

Nope. Not Doodle ‘n I.

We’re in it together.

As we humans reinvent the social norms -

of 6 feet away - or more.

And businesses are closed.

And we’re worried.

But I know we'll find each other.

I know we’ll invent new ways to show we care.

And new ways to care for each other.

Social media - a whole new meaning.

And PS, those huge rainbow trout in the pond right now are just spring crazy. Showing off.

Jumping for joy.

And bugs.

A great reminder.

Just when we’re getting all wrapped up in our human condition - Trout speaks up.

And makes us smile.

And just around the corner… sleep walking trees. And rusty dinosaurs.

Our home beach.

And kiters.

Like trout.

Just waking up.

Making up. Lost time. Free time. No time like this.

A couple brave kiters already out there. Getting big spring air.

There is no place like home.

We’re stuck here, after all.

But are we really stuck?

'Tis spring.

Easter almost.

We'll come back from this.

We daffodils.

We trout.

We reflections.

We can be stronger. Closer. And farther away, all at the same time.

We are one.

- Barb Ayers, Emergency Manager, Hood River County (on my day off from COVID response)

The Coyote Wall Syncline, from the front porch. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

One Mosier moment. (Good morning from our house to yours)

Barbara Ayers August 2, 2019

The sun is arising and so must I.

Chilly breeze, chilly night.

AM swaddle, snuggled tight.

Luminous glow, fingers of light

trace the face of Syncline giant,

warming his cheeks, his bones and crevasses.

Syncline. Photo:(c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

Gregarious green hills.

Timid blue sky.

Wildflower freckles on old soul lava.

River runs still but I know she is not.

Burgundy leaves - jittery teenagers

shadow dance on century-old farmhouse.

Sage green brush, blushes to lavender.

Nose wakes up.

Dogs squirm like puppies, then yawn into yoga.

Window cat hunts - catches reflections.

Tia. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

We all breathe in sync.

This is the moment.

Quail commutes front yard, searching for meaningful work.

Eagle above, soaring for salmon.

The Columbia pulses on.

Deep.
Slow.
Silent.

Doodle’s deep river thoughts. Photo: (c) Barb Ayers, DogDiary.org

Dogs ride the ups and downs with us. Real life Surf Dog Diaries

First day of spring. In spite of COVID.

First day of spring. In spite of COVID.

One Mosier moment. (Good morning from our house to yours)

Surf Dog Diaries | Barb Ayers, San Diego, CA and Mosier OR. | All content and images (c) Barb Ayers, copyrighted, all rights reserved