My words always flood in Oregon–overwhelm the barriers holding them back, escape into the world before I’m ready.  It might be the clouds, giving them a false sense of security, making them feel they are protected. I have told them again and again, we are not safe, but they never listen.

It’s beautiful here; I want to want to stay.  What it is about this place that leaves me feeling such unease? I used to have lots of reasons, but they’re all gone now, leaving only discomfort and the question.