A Love Letter to Oregon

Dear Oregon,

Let’s be honest. You get a terrible reputation.

People talk about Portland and its homelessness, the trash, the feeling of a city losing its young, the taxes climbing higher and higher. They say more people are leaving than coming. And none of that is entirely untrue.

But that is not all you are.

I carry a deep pride in being from Oregon. Mountains, forests, coastlines, the Columbia river Gorge. Your beauty is spoken about far less than it deserves. I grew up with my feet in the mud, my hands in tree branches, wild in nature. I learned winter on Mt. Hood, summers biking in Sunriver, nights camping beneath open skies. Because I love you so much, I feel an equal frustration when people reduce you to headlines. They aren’t wrong, but they are incomplete.

It wasn’t until I came back after living in Chicago, surrounded by concrete and noise, that I remembered who you are. Driving home from the airport along Skyline, the trees formed a tunnel around me. Mt. Hood stood quietly in the distance. Flowers were blooming everywhere. In that moment, I felt like a child again, wide eyed and in awe. That summer, I fell back in love with you by seeing you through someone else’s eyes.

My boyfriend came to visit for the first time, and I couldn’t wait to show him everything. We went to the coast, running into freezing waves, wandering small beach towns with saltwater taffy in our hands, eating at family restaurants while dogs passed by outside. We spent days in Hood River, watching windsurfers cut through the water, walking streets built into the hillside, eating local food while the mountain watched over us like a god. We drove through the Gorge alongside the river, winding between cliffs and trees, blue sky overhead, waterfalls spilling down the stone. Somewhere in all of that, I fell in love with him by falling back in love with you.

Local food. Homegrown wine. Fresh beer. There is nowhere else like this.

Although, the rain can be heavy, I thank God it falls, because it makes the summers perfect. They feel like home. The politics can be exhausting, the city often distracted by arguments instead of honoring its natural beauty, but even that fades when you know where to look.

I hope people return to you the way I did. Because on a perfect day, you are breathtaking. I have seen so much of the world, yet Oregon, in its quiet glory, rivals anywhere else.

Thank you for welcoming me home. I missed you.