Portland Pearl of the Pacific Northwest

Portland's Man In Pioneer Square With Umbrella

There’s something autumnal

In the air today, some scent

That wasn’t there yesterday.

The trees are beginning to

Show their true colors, as

Children return to their

Classrooms, clad in their

Own bright, fall hues.

It grew light later today, and

Will grow dark earlier tonight.

The sun will go wherever the

Sun goes in these autumn and

Winter months, taking with it

The warmth and the long dry

Days, and the rainy season

Will get under way. Umbrellas

Will open like flowers to the rain

And all true Portlanders will come

Home, like so many birds, to

Their evening roosts again.

Changed Forever

Ground Zero Towers

I hear the whisp’ring of the leaves

Rustling and murmuring to the breeze

As it ruffles their lacy branches.

The trees show no resistance

They bend and sway and

Dance in the arms of the wind.

I, too, have learned to bend and

Sway, and to do what I must to

Survive this brave new world, but

Sometimes when my heart is weary

And wond’ring what the future

Holds, I allow myself, just for a

Moment, to pause and remember

That day in September …

This I Remember

North Carolina Waterfall

There’s more and more of my early years that slips away from me as years go by. I don’t remember much from my childhood and envy those who can spout off chapter and verse.

But I do remember, for a short, enchanted period of time, living beside a waterfall. And the muted thunder of sound filled my days and nights like music, weaving itself into the fabric of my dreams, as subtle and necessary as a heartbeat.

I remember climbing up a steep slope, carpeted with pine needles. It was so slippery I had to hang onto the trunks of trees to haul myself up. Laughing till I could hardly stand, breathing in the cool, delicious fragrance of the pines. The waterfall would throw off spray with a chuckling sound, as if it were laughing at my silly antics. I don’t remember the faces of my parents, although I know they were there. Strangely enough my memories of this place are all sensory.

Perhaps that’s why my recent move to the Pacific Northwest seemed almost to have been preordained, or perhaps it was the awakening of the memories of trees and water and crystalline air which drew me so strongly to my new home. Whatever the reason, I am glad to have these memories to call my own and to share. I  wish I could have shared a picture as well, but the only one I could find was too small, so I have chosen a lovely substitute. If you’re ever in the area of Bright Water Falls, Near Henderson, you might come across it, and if you do, think of me.