I took this photograph of a trailer several years ago. The trailer, pretty much abandoned to the naked eye, rests very near the ocean. I once looked through a window and it appeared as if no one had been inside for years, perhaps decades.
The trailer is located on a huge secret lot, surrounded by shore pines, on a secret part of the secret South Coast of Oregon. The beach near the trailer is perhaps the most interesting beach I have ever visited. I’ve seen everything from a man panning for gold to a pagan wedding and heard strange music from a hidden loudspeaker broadcast by an alleged cult leader living in a nearby clifftop mansion preposterously made of stucco and tile in a place where it rains 80 inches a year.
To me, the trailer seems full of secrets and awakens interesting secrets within my mind.
Rain is eroding the trailer. How much longer can the trailer stay intact?
I want to live in this trailer, with someone, and a dog. I want to write and grow a garden and have bonfires. I want to host hikers and bicyclists and driftwood fort nuts and regale them with Oregon Coast tales of free beaches and encounters with wise coyotes and distressed human beings. I want to meet the cult leader.
Who owns the trailer? (Rumor says he’s from Eugene.) I want pitch an idea to the owner, a great notion, and see what happens. Probably nothing. Perhaps everything. You’ve got to pitch great notions in life, or at least I do, to survive. Sometimes when these great notions are received, the people who did the wild receiving smile a unique smile.
Look at this place! Look at the view! Look at this trailer and hum “King of the Road” by Roger Miller.
We must repurpose things in this life: dilapidated people, stray dogs and yes, abandoned trailers, too.
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