ShannonThe crunch of gravel under the tires woke me out of second nap as Jonah pulled off the main highway down a narrow, thickly forested road. The path wound under a canopy of trees before Jonah came around a curve into a clearing. He parked and jumped out, coming around to open the door for me.
“This is it,” he proclaimed.
The simple grandeur of the house fit neatly in a pocket carved out of the forest. The interior and exterior were constructed of honeyed oak, from the broad frames on the doors and windows to the long planks of the hardwood floors. Immediately upon walking through the front door, I could see across the great room through a two-story bank of oak-framed windows to the babble of the Sandy River trickling down the slopes of Mt. Hood. Aspens and evergreens towered over th
