A Love Letter to Central Oregon

Dear Central Oregon,

As this correspondence is composed, I’m afraid I’m leaving you. I will return in ten weeks after the first trimester of my first year of college has been completed, but for the time being, I will miss you dearly. The longest I’ve been away from your gnarled junipers and jutting laws rocks was ten days in eighth grade. It was this trip that solidified my love for your upstairs neighbor Washington. The San Juan Islands planted a yearning for foggy forests and cedar trees which is seldom found in your high desert terrain, and now I find myself returning to the temperate rainforests of Olympia.

That’s not to say that your forests are anything less than extraordinary. Towering ponderosas and twisting junipers will forever hold a place in my heart. The smell of sagebrush and current will always feel like home. It was in this home where I’ve spent the past 18 years. I feel very much like a product of the desert. Short and stocky like the juniper trees that cling to life despite the limited resources, growing in complexity instead of in height. Thank you for teaching me the value of compactness, the value in packing an extraordinary amount of spirit in such a small vessel. I prefer to think that it is because of the desert I am small, as opposed to the mixture of genetics and medical conditions. This was more a product of the beautiful home I was raised in as opposed to an aberration of the height status quo. 

I’m scared to be around stretching cedars and towering maples. The rainforest stretches and pulsates with life and growth. It’s so different from the hidden

Dear Central Oregon, 

It’s been two weeks! This is the longest I’ve been away from your dusty air and hardy climate. It is so incredibly different here. While I still love the feeling of the warm sun on my face, the feeling of relief when jumping into a cold stream after an unbearably hot day, and the feeling of rabbit brush being rubbed between my fingers, I’m learning there are many other things I love as well. 

I love my lungs being filled with moisture, almost as if they are drinking it in as I inhale the oxygen-rich air. The greenery here works over time making some of the most delicious air you’ll ever taste. Central Oregon, you will always have my heart for the best-tasting water on the planet, but Olympia easily has you beat for the best air. 

I’ve made friends here too! They make me feel included, they make me feel like I’m wanted. It has always been so hard to find people who seem to want to be friends with me as much as I want to be friends with them, but the people here are able to do it almost effortlessly. For one of the first times in my life, I actually want to hang out with a group of people. I’m surrounded by individuals who are just as much themselves as I am, and it’s so refreshing. People here are okay with being unapologetically different, another breath of fresh air from the microbrewery conformity of Central Oregon. 

Dear Central Oregon, 

It’s been three weeks! That’s so strange to think about, the time spent away from you simultaneously feels like a few days and a few years. I’ve managed to adjust so much easier than I ever thought possible. I still miss you, and change adjusting to the change has been difficult. I know I’ll come back to visit your sloping, jutting mountains and twisted shrunken trees soon. But for now, I am content. Thank you for all you taught me as I’ve grown and played. It is because of you that I have the tools in my belt to tackle this new adventure. 

Thank you for teaching me to soak in every moment, like the roots of a sturdy juniper tree soaking in every drop of precious water. Thank you for teaching me to be present and aware, like a red-tailed hawk always scanning the ground below. Thank you for teaching me to watch where I step, to always bend down and examine cool bugs, to pick up rocks, and fill my pockets with click-clacking joy.

Dear Central Oregon,

A month has passed. I’ve been so busy here, I have friends I see, cohabitate with, and hang out with every single day. They like similar things as I do, and most importantly, they like me. I feel like I no longer have to compromise as I did in Bend, where it was often either find people who want to hang out with me who I don’t find interesting in the slightest or find people I find interesting who have little interest in my well-being. There were the obvious exceptions, of course, chances are, if you’re from Bend and you’re reading this blog, you are one of the great exceptions. But here, people take an interest in me just as I take an interest in them. I’ve gotten to explore forests and comb rocky beaches with others who are just as passionate about every mushroom, every rock, and every caterpillar, as I am. I’ve gotten to exchange books with friends and talk about our favorites, comparing theories and thoughts on different literary works. I’ve gotten to watch stupid mindless shows and movies one night, and then watch cinematic masterpieces the next, enjoying both the same because of the people I’ve had the privilege of watching with. And most importantly of all, I’ve gotten to rest in other people’s presence, learning about each other both through the words we say, and the silence we leave. 

My class is also amazing. An extension of all the natural history and ecology I’ve been taught my whole life, intertwined with artistic expression. It feels as if the program was designed with me in mind. I have friends in the class as well. Nights are spent comparing drawings of fish in our field notebooks and talking about the insane reproductive cycle of jellyfish. In addition to my college class, I’ve also begun an apprenticeship with a local herbalist. Being able to enter the dense and diverse temperate rainforests of Olympia and know the names of the life that surrounds me is such an empowering experience. Knowing not only how my actions affect the plant, but how the plant can affect me. Knowing what is safe to nibble on and what is better left alone. Knowing I will never be without abundance as long as I cohabitate with the forest. 

Every day I learn a plethora of new things here. Every day I’m faced with a new experience, new challenge, new accomplishment, and new shortcoming. What I had thought would be terrifying and overwhelming feels instead enriching and invigorating.  

I love you, Central Oregon, you will always be my home, and the more time I spend in Olympia, the more it feels like home too. Thank you for preparing me to both thrive and falter in this climate, and I’m so excited to return to you during my next break from school. No matter where I go or what I do, I will always return home, even if just to visit. 

Forever in admiration,

Lilah Beck