Laurelhurst Park – Page 4

Another Change at the Park

Dear Liza,

Our Laurelhurst Park is always changing. Old trees fall, new ones are planted. Ducks migrate in and out, rains flood the low spots, and leaves sprout, grow, and fall. Banks of azaleas blaze into bloom and slowly fade.

There is a new Aptos redwood planted at the south end of Firwood Lake.

We named him Rene, after the Pastor at Twin Lakes Church in Aptos, California.

Another change was a bit sadder. There was this weird old stump near the west entrance to the park. I don’t know when the tree came down, but it has been in this magical sort of shape for years. Folks have tucked gnomes and bunches of flowers inside, or hidden Easter eggs for hunts.

A few months ago, we noticed that the hole had been made bigger. Then, a few weeks later, someone had tried to start a fire inside it. The fire hadn’t caught, but the park managers must have decided that the stump was no longer safe.

This evening, we saw that the stump had been taken down, and I’m not sure what the final decision about it will be. I know the park mangers want to keep the park, and everyone who visits it, safe. Still, it makes me sad.

So that’s the news from here, for now.

Love,

Grandma Judy

Blinding, Freezing Days

Dear Liza,

After staying inside for two whole days because it was just too cold to go for a walk, I bundled up and made it as far as the park. The temperature has been below freezing at night and never above 40 for days, but the sky has been blinding bright.

It is a crazy, bright, beautiful combination.

Of course, all the sunshine is encouraging new spring flowers.

Hyacinths grow just a few inches high, but camellias are budding way above my head!

There are some I don’t even know the names of, but they sure are going to town!

Once I got to Laurelhurst Park, I found a bench in the sun and enjoyed watching the people parade go by. Of course, it was still cold, but I was determined to soak up the sun. I lasted almost half an hour before I needed to get back inside.

I hope your weather is pretty and pleasant.

Love,

Grandma Judy

It’s the Little Things

Dear Liza,

It is still Winter here, but my walks around the neighborhood show me life sprouting on every rock.

These hundreds of types of moss and lichen are always in the rocks, drying to a flat brown and biding their time during the summer months. But give us a few days of rain, and they green up, send out tiny stems, and look very nice beside the newly sprouting daffodils.

Besides being beautiful in their own right, the mossy walls, to my fanciful brain, look for all the world like fairy houses. A few little caves, some nice sunny porches, and there is a whole fairy community right there.

I love being able to let my mind wander in such lovely places!

Love,

Grandma Judy

Art Therapy

Dear Liza,

The other day, I woke up grouchy. There wasn’t really any reason for it, I just had a chip in my shoulder. Art projects I had started weren’t working the way I wanted. A story wasn’t as good as it should be. Nothing felt right.

Grouchy.

After stomping around the house all morning and irritating my lovely people, I went for a walk and stomped around the park. I watched the dogs, listened to the birds, and smelled the rain in the mud. I am glad I did.

When I got home, I didn’t go near the art or writing projects I had wrestled with. Instead, I opened my box of collage papers and just started gluing pieces down.

I know enough to stick with colors that look good together. The first few I chose were red, so I went with that. Watercolor pencils, tissue paper from Pittman and Davis fruit boxes, and a small envelope filled up the bulk of the space.

The circles on the tissue paper were looking good, so I pulled out some circles that I cut from magazines years ago. A watercolor piece I did online with Ruthie Inman got cut out and added. A little bit of black made it better.

I made a weird little dude to hide in the envelope. And after more than an hour of cutting and gluing, I felt better!

Art therapy. It works!

Love,

Grandma Judy

Ken, the Oak Tree

Dear Liza,

You know how much I love walking in Laurelhurst Park. I feel very close to some of the trees, especially the younger ones that I have gotten to see grow up.

This past Spring, several of our old giants fell in a big windstorm. This is a natural way for a tree to die, but it is still sad to see. This oak fell over with some of its roots still in the ground. The City cut most of the tree away to keep the paths safe and the dog park clear.

And someone decided that the remaining set of roots should protect a NEW tree, and planted one, right there. We named it Ken.

This summer we have enjoyed watching Ken grow. He has gained about a foot in height. He is growing almost as fast as you are!

And now it is Fall, time for Ken to change his leaves and have a nice long rest for winter. I can’t wait to see his new leaves pop out come March!

Love,

Grandma Judy

Seasonal Poetry

Dear Liza,

I went out for a walk the other day to enjoy the colors and clear my head. Sitting with a cat on your lap, watching the fire burn, though very pleasant, makes me a bit fuzzy headed.

I bundled up, headed out, and got inspired. Here is my take on the seasons.

For The Leaves

The Spring brought us colors of blossom and bloom,

The beginnings of life, bursting forth, making room.

The summer brought jewel-colored fruits of the vine

Apples for a pie and grapes for some wine.

In Autumn the world became darker and cold,

The youth of the spring has grown up and grown old.

No longer bursting, it no longer glows

It flashes an instant before the storm blows

But just for this moment, the wind holds its peace

And leaves us to contemplate

This lovely release.

I hope you enjoy the Fall!

Love,

Grandma Judy

Just a (Wet) Walk in the Park

Dear Liza,

This week we saw some real rain, which was a relief after our too- hot summer. I wanted to properly appreciate it, so out I went!

I didn’t have far to go to find beauty. Auntie Bridgett’s angel and spider plants were much improved by the weather. The gnomes were lurking about, as usual.

Raindrops hitting the puddles remind me why I love concentric circles.

I stopped by our plot at the Blair Community Garden. Only three new tomatoes were ripe, but Morgan and Abby’s corn was shiny and tall.

My late blooming pumpkin, Leo, seems to be coloring up a bit.

I continued on to Laurelhurst Park, which was mostly deserted. A few diehard dogs and their owners were at the off leash area, and the puddles grew all along the base of the hills. This young lady found a good spot to enjoy a conversation with a loved one.

I am a firm believer that rain makes everything prettier, and this rain drop-enhanced rose proved me right.

By the time I got home I was pretty soaked, but so much richer for all the beauty. Now to get dry and have a snack!

Love,

Grandma Judy

Willie the Dawn Redwood Update

Dear Liza,

One of the many things I love about our Laurelhurst Park is that it is always changing. Old trees die or are damaged in storms and need to be replaced, so we get to meet the new babies.

Bridgett, Grandpa Nelson, and Willie, Summer of 2018

Just after we moved up to Portland, this young Dawn Redwood was planted near the dog off leash area. We named it Willie, after my Mom.

Every time we walked through the park, we would check on Willie. That first autumn we were very worried. Willie’s thin, soft needles began to dry up and fall off! We looked up Dawn Redwoods and discovered that (whew) they are deciduous. That means they lose their leaves in winter. Willie wasn’t sick, she was just hibernating!

After a long nap, Willie woke up in the spring and looked fabulous! She was a good foot taller. She apparently liked where she was.

And she continues to thrive. This summer she is three years old and growing like a weed. In ten years or so, she may take on the look of her elders, which look sort of like the scary apple trees from “The Wizard of Oz”.

I love watching things grow.

Love,

Grandma Judy

Twelfth Night at Laurelhurst

Dear Liza,

Last night we went over to Laurelhurst Park for some Shakespeare. The Original Practice Shakespeare Company, which could only do Zoom Performances during the Covid Shutdown, is now back to performing its open air, 18-play repertoire in person!

Feste, Sir Andrew and Auntie Toby have a drunken romp

Original Practice means that this talented troupe of players prepares for and performs the plays as the troupes did in Shakespeare’s day. Since there were no copyright laws and printed scripts could be stolen and performed elsewhere, each player was given a scroll with only their lines. Also, since each troupe would perform many plays on a very tight schedule, rehearsals were non-existent. Each performance was, and is, a new experience.

It is delightful!

Twelfth Night is a raucous comedy, full of gender switching and mistaken identities, pompous aristocrats and clever underlings. Performed by the talented OPS, it had us laughing, cheering, booing and swooning.

Sitting in lawn chairs under the trees, enjoying Shakespeare, snacks and wine and surrounded by people, kids, and dogs also enjoying their snacks and wine, is a uniquely Portland experience. I have missed it more than I can say and am grateful to have it back.

Love,

Grandma Judy

Late Summer Magic

Dear Liza,

Welcome to August! I can’t believe this summer is racing past so quickly.

The heat wave here in Portland has sort of upended my usual way of doing things. Since it is so hot in the afternoon, I go to the vegetable plot early to water and harvest the zucchinis, and to check on the tomatoes and pumpkins.

Some days it feels like a race to harvest and eat as fast as they are growing. My gardener friend Tonya has clued us in on how to freeze zucchini to use later, when it isn’t too hot to bake.

Inside the house, Auntie Bridgett’s Sundew (which she bought to eat the fungus flies…. Don’t get me started) is blooming! The perfect, delicate spiral is so pretty!

At Laurelhurst Park, the local Faerie Folk have been out improving their summer homes.

Morning Glories are creating some accidental beauty on telephone poles. They follow the spiral growth model, climbing around and around.

And last but definitely not least, the sunflower that has made this dead chestnut tree its new home. The tree was fatally pruned to a height of about ten feet. I am glad it is having a useful afterlife.

We should all be so fortunate.

Love,

Grandma Judy