"True friendship multiplies the good in life and divides its evils." - Baltasar Gracian
^ Leaving Walla Walla and heading for home, the scenery along the bucolic two-lane highway rolls with the gentle hills of the palouse and glimpses of the Blue Mountains stretching low and lean beyond.
^ Tidy postmodern vineyards spring up between the traditional wheat fields, and picturesque old barns still stand.
^ Where nature roams unchecked, the land is dry and dotted with scrub grasses.
^ As the highway bends north toward the Tri Cities, rail cars sit along a track, offering their graffiti-covered sides for the entertainment of those passing by.
^ Depending on which way the wind is blowing, pulp mill operations often assault the nose with a stink like fermented cabbage before the factory comes into view. Who knew cardboard could smell so bad.
^ This is the place where the Snake River, legend of Hells Canyon and Oregon Trail navigational fame, feeds into the might Columbia on her way to the sea. And this is also the place where the little highway from Walla Walla meets the interstate in the Tri Cities, and the mood of the trip toward home is changed.
* * * * *
Leaving Walla Walla and heading for home, I reflect on the time just spent with a friend.
He is kind.
He is thoughtful.
He is wise.
He works every day to better himself.
He seeks out opportunities to stretch and grow.
He finds ways to turn problems into positives.
His faith in God is constant and true.
He shines with the light of God's love.
The fact that he lives behind the walls of a prison has nothing to do with the state of his soul.
He soars.
And every time I leave Walla Walla and head for home, I think how fortunate I am to have such an inspiring friend.
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