Ferndale, California is a town of 1300 people (not counting those in the two cemeteries) and tens of thousands of dairy cows. Immigrants came here from dairy and beef cultures in Italy, Portugal, Switzerland, Denmark, the Netherlands and elsewhere in the US east. They all wear feed caps and drive F150s now. The redwood groves stand across the Eel River south and north and east of here, though Poppa Joe’s where many of them eat a farmer’s breakfast still sports a Portuguese flag and posters of the Azores. Just over the horizon, the North Pacific. I was married in the old church at the foot of the cemetery, and lived here for the closing two years of my decades in the Pacific Northwest.