Take me to your trees. Take me to your breakfasts, your sunsets, your bad dreams, your shoes, your nouns. Take me to your fingers; take me to your deaths.
These are worth it. These are what I have come for.
Margaret Atwood
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Tags: Quoting
He hears voices and bird song, oh, and aeroplanes!
This was Easter, a rare Portland gem of seventy-five and sunny. Hoot and holler! To celebrate and soak up as much of the goodness that we could, we headed west to Beaverton and the Cooper Mountain Nature Park. Dear neighbors, have you ever been? Not only is its moniker one of the finest I can conjure, it is lovely in its organized wildness, and a royal treat on a smashing day.
We did a loop around the park, our eyes meeting every manner of tree and shrub, like this great stand of mossy oaks.
There were plenty of plants I didn’t know and quite a few that I did.
Then there were creatures, some soaring and others well hidden, despite their voluminous singing and rustling about.
There were teenagers, wholly unappreciative of nature and even louder in their protestations of being in her presence. Hopefully they will change their minds in future or be a little more closed mouthed in their fervor.
Then there was this madrone, one of the tallest I’d ever seen, with bark as smooth and cool as a worry stone.
And me, baring my whiteness to the world, ever so glad!
Tags: Oregon
Hello. Welcome to a Tao of Tea lunch expedition from a few weeks back. Gosh, do I love that place. I often wax poetic about the tranquil setting, akin to napping while fully awake, sipping world class tea and noshing on mouth watering vegetarian fare.
How is life? The hubster’s been under the weather, a stomach bug has him grumbling and sighing and sleeping copiously while I search the interwebs for places to enjoy a summer adventure. Eastern Washington, embarrassingly close, yet largely unexplored by the Sohn-Cooper household, will be our destination. If it were up to me, we’d be out the door tomorrow. I’ve got that kind of itch.
It is spring break, with Portland thoroughly spoiled, basking in sixty-plus-degree sunshine, as we wait for the rainy shoe to drop. Much of my time is spent enjoying warm air and the soft scents of spring, hatching new garden and landscaping plans and trying to keep up with weed pulling. The mason bees are emerging from the houses we made, zipping hither and thither, while I hope their labor brings a bounty of plums, apples, and cherries to the yard. Maybe this is the year we successfully make hard cider!
Then there is the everyday little and big. Dust bunnies seem ever-emboldened to win our house keeping battle and the windows sure could use a wash. I am going like gang busters with my poetry but utterly stalled in the story writing department, which saddens me some. But then I glance out the window and see the budding birch, billowing blossoms of plums, and the rosy peach of the setting sun and release any worry. Everything in its own time.
Happy Spring!
Tags: Portland, Restaurants
Hello dear reader! I have the strongest urge to utter good morning, despite it being well into the afternoon, which pretty much sums up my life at the moment. How did it get to be so late in the day? I’ve got to skeedaddle! Off to appointments and errands and dinner and lunch. And then there is the heaviness, which may or may not be the Dakini Bliss, curled up like a cat in my abdomen. Peaceful, but there. Should it be?
Without any answers, off I walked to maybe meet a friend, maybe not. I am not playing coy here, we just got our wires crossed, but the morning could not have been better, everything soft, the air so heady with ripe earth and blossoms and pine that it didn’t matter what happened. I walked at a near skip to our meeting place, cheerfully bellowing good morning at one and all before arriving at my destination. My friend was there, but not for me, and we laughed and made our next plan. It’s gonna be good!
On the way home, I was transfixed by all things small and spent much of my time squatting and admiring, also learning that caterpillars and snails move at a faster clip than I previously realized. The things we learn when we pay attention.
This beautiful life:
orange hued at sunset
soft
and rime laden at dawn
sun, sun, sun,
the first sweet blossoms
and a ghost of fall
the borderland
then
home
and a man who cooks.
Tags: cats, Gardening + Nature
