Lake Oroville

Today is our first day back on the road in about five weeks. We've had a wonderful time in Marysville with my sister, Cheryl, and there will be some postings with pictures of some of our work and play appearing before long.


But today, today we move again! Chorro is sad to leave for he has made friends with his "cousin" CeCe and has been pampered by Cheryl and James. He has very much enjoyed being a "gallery dog" at Camelot in Marysville.


He knows the routine though and can soon tell that we are packing the RV to move. He notices that the back window shade is opened. The passenger seat is cleared off so he can sit up and see to navigate. The lid gets snapped onto his water bowl.

We travelled a short distance north today to Lake Oroville Recreation Area. Lake Oroville was created by a huge earth-filled dam in 1957. It also created a lake over a mile long. The dam is 660 feet tall and the highest in the United States. It's purpose is to control the Feather River runoff from the Sierra Nevada Mountains and provide irrigation for some of California's beautiful farmland. (The strawberries are already ripening, yum!)

It perhaps gives a clue to the reason that Marysville, whose western city limits are defined by the Feather River, is completely surrounded by a dike about twenty feet tall.

Our campground is above the lake, which is quite low. Here's where our campsite is hidden, just behind a few trees.

And here's my little home among the trees, complete with contented canine companion sunning himself off to the side.


You might wonder if Chorro is happy to be camping again, given that he had to leave his plush gallery in the city.


!

!

!

!

!

!

!

You can see by the smile on his face that he had not forgotten the wonder of wide open spaces.

The lake is home or summer home to a number of California residents; these houseboats are only a few of huge numbers that jam the water space.

And just like RV's, or bricks and sticks houses, you can find the modest and the extreme.

Our campground is incredibly quiet.

We'd become accustomed to the noise of living in town -- cars, trucks, sirens, angry people yelling in alleys, trains chugging by, whistling at crossings. They all contributed to these moments now of feeling the quiet filter down through me like water through sand. Cleansing out the grimy stuff in a similar way. The world seems a much friendlier place in the silence of nature.

We are blessed.

Tomorrow I will look for a sunrise or a sunset.

Tomorrow is a new day.