My storytelling muse hasn’t been amusing itself lately. So rather than a cohesive “Once Upon A Time”, here are a few vignettes from recent wanderings around town.
When the Blossoms Snow
The calendar has its opinion, but the local definition of when Spring begins is based on when the cherry trees bloom on the Portland waterfront. Donated to the city by a group of Japanese businessmen back in 1990, 100 trees pop with pink and white petals.
Once upon a time (yep, got it in anyhow), you could enjoy this event without being jostled by 1000 tourists. These days it takes an early start, which is no longer in my DNA.
The cherry trees are located at the Japanese American Historical Plaza at the north end of Waterfront Park, and normally bloom in late March/early April.
Easter Island has its Moai. Leave it to Portland to come up with a hipster version. Some local creative took what appears to be a couple of sink cutouts from a granite countertop slab, a batch of cement, and some red paint to create this Coolsville icon. It sits on the edge of a natural bowl on a bluff in North Portland. The bowl itself is used by dog owners to exercise their pups; ergo there’s a giant dog bowl with a giant dyslexic god overlooking it.
While on the way to our encounter with this hip Moai I photoed a couple trees. Ho-hum, right?
Another day, another hike. But let us stick with the monochrome theme, shall we?
A Site for Sore Eyes
Yesterday, shortly after shooting the train photo I came upon this Mahonia, sometimes known in these parts as Oregon Grape. I’m not sure who named it; although those yellow flowers will turn into little purple berries it has nothing to do with real grapes. Wishful thinking maybe.
And while its a decent enough picture I don’t know that I’d call it a sight for sore eyes, but it did turn out to be a site for them. Not long after I hunkered down to get this shot, I noticed my eyes had picked up an itchy, burning sensation. Perhaps an aura of pollen wafted my way. In any case, they’re still sore today.
As for the bug, it likely has compound eye facets – how sore could that get?
We wandered back to the car through Pier Park, soothing sore eyes on views like this.
It’s a sizeable park, big enough to host a golf course.
Frisbee golf, that is. They say Portland is where young hipster dudes go to retire. Apparently, frisbee golf is the retirement game of choice for that demographic. I admit I was tempted to try it, I got pretty proficient with the disc in my childhood years. But these guys carry around satchels with an assortment of discs for different uses, and I might have one frisbee, buried somewhere, of unknown appropriateness.
On the other hand, how hard could it be to throw a frisbee past a few trees?