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One of the things I love about Oregon is that it’s still relatively undiscovered.

Take an unexpected turn in the road, and you’ll stumble on something wondrous here, like this covered bridge.

Covered bridge, Oregon. (Hadi Dadashian photo)

Grave Creek covered bridge, Southern Oregon. (Hadi Dadashian photo)

We always associate covered bridges with the east coast — lovely Vermont, mostly — so it’s always a pleasure to discover another here.

This 1920 bridge was only reopened to traffic in 2001, after years of neglect. Yet its bold, white paint and Gothic windows along each side are startling in the spring green of the suitably named Sunny Valley.

It speaks to us of history, because Grave Creek is named for 16-year-Martha Leland Crowley, who was buried nearby in 1846. She died of typhoid, and was buried at her family’s emigrant camp, after making the long trek across the mountain passes from Idaho.

The West was truly wild then, and Martha would have seen only wagon ruts, if anything, on her journey.

This corner of America is still unspoiled, and I’m grateful for that.

I’m especially grateful for a quiet spring morning, listening to the rush of a creek named for the loss of a teenaged pioneer.

“I wish you could see what I see” is an occasional feature of living in gratitude, because there’s so much to share along the Pacific coast.

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