The meadow appeared.

Suddenly.

I was on a road along the circling on the side of the mountain, when there it was. All guarded and privileged in an attempt to keep the rift-raft at bay.

Set on a wooded hillside just before the North Fork of the Siuslaw River Bridge, its view is one that could be envied were it not for the fact that the grand juxtaposition between the living and the dead remains entirely a matter of interpretation.

As the neighborhood became larger in my eyes, I found myself weaving the sign of the cross across my chest like the good Catholic girl that I am. I took a leap of faith as I parked the car in the graying shadows, and stepped gently onto the hallowed ground. The Nuns at Saint Lucy’s would have been proud.



Even the after-life is a Fairytale here

~