They rise up out of almost nothing.

Tall, uniform stands of trees, surrounded by expanses of low sage, and irrigated croplands. West of Pendleton, just a few miles east of the Columbia River on I-84 in Oregon.

If you were a local (here, not there), I would say it is like coming up on Twin Groves from the east, and you would know exactly what I meant.

But as soon as you start whizzing past, at interstate speeds, you realize these are not stands of trees.

They're crops. All planted in neat rows. It's like being a mouse standing in a field of skinny, leafless corn. Fast growing deciduous trees, presumably waiting to be harvested and converted into pulp.

Both impressive, and sad, at the same time. Sterile, utilitarian forests.

We passed them again, two days later, our trailers fully loaded with bighorn sheep, just after sunset.

Naturally we did not stop.

But in the dim light, at cruising speed, I did manage to grab one mouse-eyed view of these giant crops.