I sit perched in the Airstream doorway in the Methow Valley as I write this. I look out past the buildings at the smokejumper base, towards the Mazama Corridor and the mountains beyond. It’s beautiful. It’s a home away from our home in Idaho and I’m always surprised at how good it feels to turn off the Columbia River and make my way up the highway towards Twisp and Winthrop. There are places here that I belong to now; a coffee shop, a sandy bend in the river with a tiny cove I use as a kayaking take-out, a deep pool on the Twisp River I love to wade and fish in the evenings, the hill I like to stand astride for sunsets, the secret spots I carry my camera and sketchbook to when I feel like being alone and being at rest. The cashiers at the grocery store and I pick up our conversations where we left them off, last fall. The cooks at Glover Street Market know I’ll want the spring rolls before I even place my order and maybe a green goddess juice to go with. Each of these places, each of these belongings press down on a single, pure, resonating ivory key in the the black and white of my heart. So it’s funny to make this confession: I don’t always think I would like to live here year round.
The Methow Valley is dear to me, I consider it one of my homes, but I cannot imagine buying a house here and settling in for a decade or two. Isn’t that strange?
How I feel about the Methow is flittering, abstract and at times, contradictory. I like, very much, many things about it, but there are other details surrounding valley life I struggle to tolerate. I blame it on my extremely wild, rural childhood which has caused me to have a rare perspective regarding space and and especially high standards with respect to freedom and wilderness.
It’s hard to tame something that has grown up wild, everyone knows this. At times, during my childhood, adolescence and even parts of my adult life, I have been downright feral! My issue with the spectacular Methow Valley comes down to human population and density. The valley feels cluttered to me. Narrow and full. Brimming, at times, with people, livestock, habitualized mule deer and fancy fly fishermen taking up all the good water. To contradict myself in a terrible manner, one of the things I love most about the valley is the people! The community! I cherish our immediate fire family, the incredibly rich and diverse artist community and also the general population of the entire valley which is so special and unique. What irks me is the very thing I love! Perhaps it’s because I love it so truly that I am irked, or maybe I am irked because I love it so truly, or maybe I’m just a fickle puss in need of a good pinch on the bottom. Whatever the case may be, I flip flop like a pancake every other day of the week when Robbie and I speak aloud of the future of our little family, the future of our jobs, where we want to go and what we want to be.
It’s a tricky thing to figure out, you know? We only live once.
Anyhow, I had a regular, good old time in the valley and stayed on with Robert in our delightful little Airstream for nearly a week while he began work. I watched him do his refresher work (which is rather vigorous) and jump out of an airplane a few times (always exhilarating), visited with some of the other fire wives who I am blessed to call my friends, dropped work at a gallery or two and generally ran around the valley doing all my favorite things while cruising in the best-good-old-’71-Ford-pick-up-truck that ever was. It was a restful time for me after being with my side of the family in Canada which always tends to be a little non-stop chaotic. I read a few books which was a complete joy — I’ve really been at the mercy of my work these past six months and reading has become a luxury I cannot always afford, to the great detriment of my happiness. I spent a couple of days at the lake, suffered a rotten little sun burn and then piled everything in the truck and headed home to Idaho for a couple of days before departing on yet another trip (details and photographs forthcoming).
I thought a lot about the life details I’ll miss this summer while I am at home in Idaho, holding the fort:
-swimming in cold, clear rivers and lakes
-5 minute drives to great fishing holes
-really big ponderosa pines (I love the excellent company of quiet giants)
-seeing Robbie more regularly when he is working base 8s and his job is more like a 9-5 giving us dinners together and breakfasts, too
– La Fonda tacos…oh gosh
-Bruce Springsteen’s V8 purr
-the fluttery, papery flight of the poorwills in the headlights of my truck at night
-wild, wild thunderstorms rattling the windows at the Little Cabin In The Woods
-smoked out sunsets over the Cascades
-gin and tonics with the girls…movies in the bunkhouse with all the fellas…night bicycle rides on the airstrip
-early morning veggie deliveries from John Button
-late night star watching through the crowns of the douglas firs
Oh…I could go on and on.
It’s good to be home in Idaho this summer, in my own house, with my full studio building, but I would be an awful liar if I didn’t confess my heart is divided in more ways than one.
i’m tickled pink that you confess to flip-flopping in what you want, where you want to live, etc. i feel more normal when i read your words. and i’m really glad you have a man who listens to your heartwords about all that stuff.
love everything, EVERYTHING, about this post….the words, the honesty, the flowers, bruce springsteen, the GSPs, robert in gear, you in boots, EVERYthing.
and love you. indeed.
Oh of COURSE I do!
I’ve lived in so many different places and have loved them all just as differently. 🙂 There are things I want in life that never change, and things I simply haven’t decided yet.
XX
Here’s a little swat on your bottom with a honeysuckle vine. NOT for being finicky nor for the love/hate way you feel about that valley. No! It’s just a sting to urge you on!
Hey, I GET IT. The way you described it, it feels cluttered, in a nutshell. That’s no place for a wild child to live year-round! In little bits here and there, maybe.
I bet it you made a detailed list of things you’d miss in Idaho, they would out number all those others and there would be less variety to your days and most of all, less wildness and freedom.
I love that image of you leaning against Bruce Springsteen. It’s very contemplative.
xx
Swat with a honeysuckle! GUFFAW! I appreciate it. 🙂
Yes. It feels cluttered, to ME.
And a touch too tame, at times.
When I’m out in Idaho, I feel so wonderfully cloaked in space and wildness, no matter where I am (unless I’m in Boise or up in the Coeur d’Alene area — but again, that’s just a human population issue for me).
I am a list maker. And Robert and I speak of it all the time, what we love about here and what we love about WA. The scale always tips in the Idaho direction. This place is simply MORE for us.
Such lovely photos….so peaceful.
Thank you, Amy.
Wow. Interesting to hear your thoughts on this area, knowing it a little bit. We always stop in Twisp on our once-a-yearly track trough that neck of the woods and I like it there, the swoop of heat as you come down the mountain, the tightness of the road between the hills and the wide-open, burnt yellow undulating horizon all-around, but East of The Mountains is such a different world. The fact that you feel it’s crowded makes me really curious to know more about your place in Idaho. I mean there’s a lot of folks, but the surroundings make it seem pretty empty, not like here where your stuck on a rock with a ton of people 😉
A few years ago, on our way back from Barter Fair, we visited some friends who have a lovely little place in Ferry and thought, the entire car-ride home, about what it might be like to live there. Because damn! Land is so affordable there and my hermit nature would love the solitude. But , realistically leaving our community would be too hard. Still it’s a lovely fantasy.
See, you have a different sense of space than I do. The Methow Valley is spectacular, truly beautiful. It’s the Jackson Hole of Washington! There’s a reason people have second homes there, a reason it attracts so many resident artists and people who love the outdoors! It’s a WONDERFUL wonderful place.
The way I feel about it doesn’t make it any LESS wonderful or LESS good than Idaho.
Idaho is simply a very empty state. The population of Washington is almost 7 million. The population of Idaho sits around 1.5 million. There are hardly any people here which translates to more space for all of us.
I really do blame my feelings about the Methow and its human clutter on the way I was raised in big empty tracts of space. It’s the same reason I love winter so much, I think, because I grew up in the cold, bright white of it, learned how to live in it and love it for what it is.
East of the Mountains is beautiful. 🙂 I really feel IT in the interior. It’s my kind of land.
Briefly allowed myself to be transported out of here…love the photos…I frequently, nearly always love places where I would not want to live in…in fact, I am where I have to be and not really where I chose, all my life that is…try not to think about most of this stuff..loving those flowers and the pooches and the rest… xx
Maybe that’s what makes those spaces so special, the magic and relaxation of being on holiday and really being able to take them in?
X
*More* is something that Christopher and I have struggled with as well. I would love more land, more space, more solitude, FAR less population density (living in a Great Lakes state, I know that’s a silly thing to say.) His job requires him to be near a good population center. We try to make a good compromise, and who knows what our futures will bring.
Lovely post and photos. I appreciate the honesty of your words.
xx
Right.
Us too.
Heck, we want a thousand acre ranch (and that’s on the SMALL side in this part of the country). How much is enough?
X
Perhaps it’s a Canadian Wild Woman thing…ME TOO.
xo
It probably is.
Blame it on the maple syrup.
X
*muah*
love the photos, and the moments.
Thanks, toots.
X
Like you, I am torn between two places….where I want to be and where I am now. It isn’t easy. In fact, it’s hard as hell. I struggle daily. Thanks for putting your thoughts out there. At least I know I’m not the only one. xx
You sure aren’t the only one. We’ll figure it out someday. X
Could the world look any more gorgeous? No – but only until your next post. I’ve lived in New York and New England my whole life, and the Northwest seems so big and mysterious.
Your blog shows me the beauty and mystery and majesty of it.
No need to apologize for your feelings – my goodness!
And maybe one day a book??? Yes, Yes, Yes, Please a book!
Oh, honey. You need to come West sometime, on holiday, so you can know the space here. It’s good for the soul.
Thank you SO MUCH for being here!
X
I sighed after reading you, with so many thoughts and ideas within myself… all of them in spanish. Too abstract and difficult for me to try to translate them in english.
I love your posts and I love your moments, like somebody said in reply to this post.
Your pictures tell so much, you say so much, besides your written words.
Thank you and, as always, hugs from Argentina.
It’s enough to know that you connected with what I was trying to say. So thankful you are here. X
A while back (1999), when looking to relocate, we thought the Methow Valley was *The* place. Heaven on earth, it felt to me. But the more I was there…looking…exploring… the more I felt exactly the same as you– too many people! But… boy oh boy what a beauty of a place!
Thanks Jillian, for sharing your travels… we have still not found a place to call home yet… but I have enjoyed the view through your lens!
Kris in WA
XX
Kris,
And the thing is, for some folks, the Methow feels EMPTY…or the human population feels PERFECT…it’s such a personal thing, how we feel about how surrounded we are and how comfortable we are in different spaces.
Thanks so much for sharing your two cents here.
X
Hey Lady Plume! Hi!
Yes such a personal thing to be in tune with the place you live, it’s like a tuning fork to your soul, you just know when it is right! It’s so fun you are writing about this right now as I have been thinking what I am going to do with my life. Well, I know what I am going to do but, where am I going to go? I moved up here to Elko/Spring Creek Nev. to help out my folks, and as things are always changing I am beginning to face the realization that it is going to be just me pretty soon, and I never thought in a million years that this is where I would end up! But, now this place is kinda growing on me, and the Rubies are right there in front of me, always and I am magnetically pulled to them all the time….Hhmmmmm! I have been thinking of where to live, I just took a little vacation to Oregon, but again, to many people. I’m thinking a little cabin in the woods, over looking the ocean, or a lake! Manifest destiny!!! Love you girl, and your whole vibe! <3
I hear you, sister. Sometimes when I think of selling our little farm house here in Pocatello and moving elsewhere I have a tiny panic attack. I love the Portneuf Valley. Truly. But I also LOVELOVELOVELOVELOVE our circle of friends here. Like REALLY love, tenaciously. If and when we pick up to make our move, it’s going to be frightfully hard for me to let go. Furthermore, I dread the notion of building a new social realm elsewhere. Dread it.
Good luck making your decisions! I think it’s an excellent reason to go out and explore all kinds of places, looking for THE ONE. 🙂
X
Isn’t it fabulous to be torn between 2 places? Isn’t it fabulous to be able to choose where you want to live? As soon as I was on my own when I was young I always choose where I wanted to live and by seeing people live in fear of-moving-and-regretting-after-I-should’ve-done-like-you-but-it-is-too-late kind of thing…I realize that it is a gift, a talent, a big luck to be able to choose where you want to live. A great gift to find a place somewhere that you can call home without even asking why.
About your writing skills: some people can write about extraordinary lives and they are boring,some people like you just write about simple stuff and it becomes extraordinary.
I think that (apart from being a fabulous photographer and jewelery maker) you are a hell of a good writer Jillian!
I know! I think about it often! It’s so rare to be born in a town or city and NEVER leave! Social mobility is something that is so unique to our generation. We go wherever the heck we please. It’s kind of magical.
Rob and I feel the same way. We go where we want to, when we want to.
Thank you for what you have to say about my writing…SERIOUSLY. Thank you. I really need bolstering right now, someone to sit on my shoulder every day and crack a riding crop on my rump. There is so much to do and sometimes I feel terribly overwhelmed. I’m actually kind of at a point where I need to hire someone to help me, an assistant, it’s an awkward position I’m in where the work has become bigger than I can handle, on a daily basis. It’s a great thing but I feel awfully tired quite often. Anyway, I just need to keep on keeping on and when someone says something like what you just said here, it really blows some wind back into my sails. So thank you for being so wonderful and encouraging.
XX
I can completely understand your feelings – there are at least a few places I love to immerse myself in, but don’t want to call home. You definitely seem a lady of the wide open spaces to me; me, I will first and foremost always be drawn to the sea.
You mean you don’t have plans to move to Manitoba then??? 🙂 HA HA HA! We have to live in places that meet our needs! You get it. X
I, too, understand that feeling you have about Methow Valley not being quite the fit for you. I live in a city, which I love at times, but often times I feel like being in the Middle of Nowhere. It’s all or nothing for me, I guess. I spent some of my childhood runnin’ wild and doing my own thing. It’s amazing to me how kids’ activities are overseen at all times nowadays. When I was about three years old, I went for a walk-about with my buddy in the woods of Alaska… that wasn’t really OK with the parents, but all ended up AOK.
Lovely pictures as always… did Penelope and Farley stay in Idaho for this trip?
GUFFAW!
Seriously.
Let me tell you something. When my family was stationed in Riding Mountain National Park for five years all I ever did was go on WALKABOUT. My mum always says it’s amazing I wasn’t eaten by something. I saw my first cougar when I was about 5. I thought it was a weird big cat. I told my dad about it, informed him that it was bigger than our golden retriever, and he had a fit! I would saddle my own horse with the help of an overturned bucket and just go riding. I would hike out to the beaver ponds and collect frogs, tadpoles, crayfish…hang out in the horse pasture and look at wild flowers. When I say I was a feral little thing, I mean it.
I just always did my own thing and it was almost ALWAYS outside, even in winter, even in -30C weather. I was outside wandering around.
🙂
Pene and Binks stayed here in Idaho. It’s easier for me to travel with just one dog and Farley is getting old enough now that he’s skilled at taking day long naps and is easy for friends to watch. Pene is just SO easy, my next door neighbor, smokejumper wife and best friend loves to watch her for me. Tater Tot is such a basket case still, I just don’t want anyone to have to be responsible for him so I always take him with me!
Love having you here, Karen.
X
Gosh! Great stories of tiny you on your adventures- I would tug on my ‘snow-snoot’ (aka snow suit) and cry to go play outside when I was a toddler. If I would have had a horse to climb up on… lawdy!
Such beautiful words to read… tis true, I think… wild places need emptiness… people emptiness in order to be truly wild… your photos certainly communicate the difference… Idaho is a place unto itself, unconcerned with people and their ways… that’s what it always seems anyway… I love that last photo of you and your beautiful dog… stunning Jillian!!!
“Idaho is a place unto itself, unconcerned with people and their ways…”
You got it.
Lordy you’re all so handsome!
And… I hear you on homes, or that feeling of being (living, loving, connecting) in a place you like for so many reasons but not truly loving it, or feeling deeply rooted there. We’re in a strange in-between place right now – back in the house and the city I grew up in (which never felt like home but is so familiar) and we are both tired of noise and humdrum and wonderfully full on family and kinship (which we will miss sorely when we go in four weeks), the libraries and parks and old flowering trees that arch over wide streets, smells from lebanese bakeries… I know I’ll miss it when we’re back on the land. But I am also thrilled at the prospect of building our home somewhere you can only see gorge, hill, rocks, tree, breeze all around you. And holding my babies there. And planting an orchard. And herding sheep. And a lot of bloody hard work… maybe it’s my celtic ancestry but I always find God in the wild open spaces too. x
Oh…so much transitioning.
I’m glad to hear you are headed back out to the land. Australia is so HUGE…so much wild space. You know, I’ve been, but if I were to go again, I would buy a cheapie car and just camp my way through the outback for weeks on end. That’s where it’s at.
I like to think I can thrive no matter where I am living, but the fact is there are places I would NEVER choose to live. I am sure you can say the same. 🙂
Always love to see your shining face here.
XX
Okay, your husband is a huge babe. It’s impossible to not notice.
He’s a strapping beauty. I know. 🙂
Again catching up with Posts. This one is has reached way deep down for me – that whole thing about finding place. When I was 9, my family moved from northern Illinois to Florida for my Dad’s health. On the journey (which took about 4 trips) we spent a lot of time in the Appalachians and my love affair with Mountains was born. It took years but I finally landed on top of a mountain in Oregon. From there I found my way to my heart and soul in Jackson Hole (only crowded in the town – 2 steps out and you’re in the wilderness), then up into the Bitterroot Valley of Montana. Now I’m in Missouri. In hind sight, Missouri was a mistake – for ME at least. If you know the things you love – the things that are important to your soul and your life – your heart will tell you where you need to be.
I’m traveling back to Jackson this fall for a visit that I know will both break my heart and keep my soul from starving to death in this place that circumstances have brought me to.
Your writing captures the essence of things, Jillian, along with your jewelry and your photographs that reflect a transcendent appreciation for the wild beauty around you.
Carry on, Deary – it’s a job well done!
Is not life full of abstractions and contradictions? The idea of what and how a thing or person should be in the story we create for it and maddening when everything doesn’t quite fit our story. Embracing the contradictions give our lives texture and contour that catch and keep those small things that often have the most meaning to us.
Thanks for your photos and writing as they evoke in me the need to further explore my own backyard.
I always love reading your posts. They truly come from your heart each and every time. I first heard about your blog by reading Artful Blogging, I fell in love with your photography. Its been great to get a glimpse of your life.