On Saturday, my mom and I took a drive. I wanted to see brushland, ornate rock formations, and a golden landscape. I guess it was my early birthday present. We drove down to the mouth of the Deschutes River, walked around, and then out of curiousity, drove a little further. We passed through what seemed like endless wheat field and ended up at a town that can only barely be put on the map. All-in-all, a fantastic day.
Deschutes river, with a tree. I love the framing, but the focus isn't really right. It doesn't really look like eastern Oregon, though. Too much greenery. I guess we got lucky.
What can I say, I like flowers. And this one's pretty, purple and tiny. I'm fond of the framing, as well.
When one thinks of eastern Oregon, one probably wouldn't conjure up an image of a lush, green landscape, but hey, here it is. I love the Deschutes.
Not a particularly artful shot, but I just thought an old, dilapidated church looked cool. And by the way, if your travels ever send you near Wasco, OR, be sure to stop by. Honestly, it's the cutest little small town (and by small, I mean our sophomore class could probably double its population, if not triple it) I've ever seen. It's a quaint little oasis in the middle of rolling wheat fields.
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