Twin Sisters

On Friday afternoon, after a long week of at-home babysitting, I got the itch to explore! There’s nothing like nature to refresh my week-worn mood. It makes me feel rather poetic. The Twin Sisters on the Columbia River was the perfect spot for our family adventure. We went there two years ago, and we’ve wanted to go back ever since. It takes an hour to get there, so we did something we rarely do—we ate OUT (if Jack In the Box burgers, shakes, and nuggets count as eating out).

It was a perfect, mellow May evening for an outing. The sinking sun was spreading its golden glory like soft butter across the rugged hills and scrubby dunes. We played in the sand, strolled around, ring-around-the rosied, and took pictures at our leisure. It was one of those evenings where time stands still and everything—the scenery, my darling family, everything—was achingly beautiful. I felt utterly content as I drank in that MOMENT! The pictures hardly do it justice, so I took extras.

Extreme sage brush, taller than me—I always had a hard time visualizing Moses and the burning bush until I saw sage brush. That stuff looks very flammable. Not that the burning bush was actually burning.

Rose had a hard time walking up the sand hills, so she adapted.

The sand was so soft and fine, you can read the KEEN in my footprint.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned about boys, it’s that they’re always jumping. Rose does her best to keep up.

Jeff and I took turns climbing up to the base of the two pillars—no climbing is allowed on the top of the pillars, but the views from the base were broad and breathtaking enough to satisfy us.

Our tiny car parked waaaay down below by the Columbia.

My shadow between the shadows of the twins—can you see it?

Patiently waiting for me to descend.

The Lone Jeffrey—he’s that speck to the right of that big bit of basalt.

Originally we hoped to watch the sunset from the Twin Sisters, but the sun doesn’t set till nearly 9pm now. In honor of an already-late bedtime, we decided to enjoy the sunset on the westward drive home instead. So after sufficiently basking in nature for 3 hours, Jeff and I each helped a child pee in the sagebrush, shook the sand from our shoes, piled into the trusty Civic, and drove into the fiery sunset.