For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?

“Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.”

― W.H. Auden

The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.

...or the river.

A little over the week ago, I drove out to Sauvie Island. I hadn't been there in over a year, which is a shame because it's pretty much my favorite place in all of Portland.

A bunch of my coworkers had planned to meet up at the pumpkin patch with their families and do the corn maze and all that happy crappy.  By the time I got there, I was frazzled and anti-social. I couldn't get a hold of my friend, and the light was fading, so I bought a park pass and drove out to the beach to work on my wheelchair project.  My partners in crime:

• Reg - my Nikkormat FTn (loaded with b&w film)
• Frank - my Nikkormat FT (loaded with color film)

The wheelchair has been slowly deteriorating over the years, which I've allowed to happen, and now it only goes backwards and the right wheel locks up more often than not.  It was quite a trip lugging it up the stairs and down the sand dune, but I think it was worth the effort. Looking back, I wish I'd tried some different angles, but oh well. Sauvie Island isn't going anywhere.