According to the statistics, this past month was the wettest April in Portland’s history. Sunday was the first of May, and we went for a long walk to enjoy what we hope will be a sunnier month.
Our primary target was Eb & Bean frozen yogurt, down on Division Street. It’s about a mile and we enjoyed seeing the dogwoods and wisterias blooming like crazy.
The frozen treats were yummy, and gave us energy to think about our next goal, because none of us felt like heading home yet. We wandered south to Clinton Street and Auntie Bridgett wanted to go over the new-ish pedestrian railroad crossing. This is how your cousins gets from their Dad’s house to their Mom’s. It is impressive, and just a little intimidating. Very steampunk.
We climbed the stairs because the elevator is permanently out of order, and got some nice views of downtown to the west and Mt. Hood to the east.
It was an interesting perspective.
We enjoyed the bits of philosophy imprinted on the paving beside the train tracks.
Once we were headed west, the next goal was the Tillikum Crossing over the Willamette. We saw lots of folks out enjoying the day, and one of them took our picture!
We even got to see the Dragon Boat team out practicing for the races that will be happening later in the summer.
By the time we were across the bridge, we were pretty tired and decided that transit would be our way home. We caught the Orange Line train to downtown…
And then the number 15 home!
Grandpa Nelson’s and Auntie Bridgett’s fit watches said we had walked over five miles! Woohoo!
After two sunny weeks of very unusual weather, we are back to the usual… rain, wind and cold. This is going to push my garden work back a week or so. But that’s okay, I have lots to keep me busy.
For this blog, I want to share some things I have found around town that are different, quirky, or just plain cool.
This beautiful pathway in a front garden is a combination of climate, pavers, and lots of time. The patterned concrete bricks were laid down flat to give traction on the gentle slope, where it can get slippery with our rains. To me, it looks almost like a green, fuzzy, stained glass window.
Here is another thing that is perfectly Portland. In this tiny free library down on Salmon Street, a box of Corn Flakes rests next to the books, ready to be taken by anyone who needs it. These little libraries are managed by the people who install them, who make sure they are stocked and kept in good condition.
While graffiti can be a nuisance in some places, these added words and letters on an electrical box in Laurelhurst Park made me smile. Delighting in my memories, and making new ones, is how I like to spend my time.
I hope you had a good day, and sleep well to have another one tomorrow.
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!
We are having our traditional Early February downpour. Our atmospheric river has cousins drenching California, the southeast, and everyone from Iowa to the East and Virginia to the north. So I thought I’d talk about moss.
Auntie Katie posted pictures yesterday of her visit to our Japanese Garden here in Portland, saying she remembered walking there as a kid and trying to help me figure out how to grow moss in Salinas. I remember those trips too, wanting to bring that lush green to dry Salinas, and failing miserably.
When you grow up in a desert (and let’s face it, anything south of San Francisco is basically a desert), the sidewalks are always grey, the concrete is always hard, the corners are always sharp. It’s like seeing Neil Armstrong’s footprints on the moon. There is nothing to erode them.
But in a rain-rich environment, corners get soft and sidewalks get green. Tombstones and birdbath become gardens. Walls become magical.
And if you have the emotional strength to get into real clothes and shoes and go out to see these marvels, your day will be better. I promise.
Yesterday was the Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year, the beginning of winter. It was 30 degrees at 8 in the morning. So of course I went for a walk.
Two scarves, sweater, coat, fuzzy hat and gloves made the walking pleasant.
Our own tiny front yard has become soft and green with moss, and this morning it had a frosty white coating on it, so delicate it melted away when I breathed on it. There wasn’t enough water around to freeze puddles, except for a tiny bit near a lamp post.
By the time I walked around the neighborhood, the frost was fading.
I noticed this very happy, mossy stepping stone in a yard, not far from some tiny pansies which ares till blooming in spite of the cold. These flowers are tougher than they look.