November 11, 2023
Remembrance Day
Under the terms of the armistice accord signed earlier that morning, World War I hostilities ended "at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month" of 1918. In the US we call this day Veterans Day, but I think I prefer the implied inclusiveness of Remembrance Day that’s observed by the Commonwealth. And besides, it dodges the tricky question of whether there should be an apostrophe in Veterans (there shouldn’t - the day honors them, but doesn’t belong to them).
For us, it’s just another day. In fact I hadn’t even noticed that it was a holiday until I got home at the end of my walk along the Portland waterfront and discovered that Via Delizia was closed along with pretty much everything else but bars, so I had to scrap my plans for a pasta dinner and treat myself to some yummy canned chicken noodle soup, applesauce and yogurt. And no beer or wine. It’s only been two days since my extraction today, and I’m mentally crossing off days on the calendar like a prisoner waiting out his sentence so I can have a more interesting meal and a glass to go with it once this horrible ordeal is over.
It brings to mind my two years in the army, which I was drafted into during the Vietnam era. I along with everyone else in the company kept our personal calendar of remaining days, me taking comfort from the fact that I’m due to get out a week earlier than Keith Snowbarger and resenting that I’ll still be stuck here on Fort Lewis maintaining the personnel files of other soldiers bound for the jungle for a full month a after that lucky Dennis Noson goes home.
That wasn’t the most important calendar on everyone’s mind back then though. The really critical one was waiting apprehensively for the next monthly levy, when they posted which of us were going to be plucked from our safe haven and shipped overseas. Now that really was stressful, enough to nudge the atheists in the group toward religion. Please Lord, not me. Take that guy.
Fitting thoughts, on Remembrance Day.
Other than that, it’s a day like most of the others lately. Rachael leaves for a long walk south along the river, and after dropping our two Bike Friday suitcases in the storage locker (we don’t need them with us now that I’ve packed up my bike that we just got back from Sellwood) I drive down to the south waterfront for another Short-billed gull hunt.
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It’s a good omen when I’m only a short distance into my walk and look down and see a pair of golden-crowned sparrows scratching up a meal just below me, unconcerned by my proximity. It’s unusual to have any of the small birds let you get close enough or stay put long enough to get a shot off.
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11 months ago
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And it is a good time to be down here. there are cormorants and mallards on the water, and the broad amphitheater-like space south of the Hawthorne Bridge is littered with geese and gulls. The geese are those cute little Cackling geese, the gang of about fifty birds that always seems to be down here in the winter, slowly advancing across the field pecking at the ground as a pack, almost like sheep.
And there be gulls. I came down to the waterfront a half dozen times this summer looking for gulls because I remembered often seeing them down here in the past but always came away disappointed. I think I saw one gull in Portland last summer. They’re here now though, for sure. I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to realize that they don’t show up until the colder months.
Not a Short-bill in the crowd today, but it does give me a chance to sharpen my gull identification skills. I pay more attention, take a lot of photos, study the references when I’m home, and at the end of the day it feels like I’ve passed Gullology 101. But maybe I’m giving myself too much credit. I’m pretty gullible.
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https://www.birdscanada.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/Adult_Gulls.pdf
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There’s more to admire here than just the birds today though, because autumn isn’t quite done with us yet. For me, the surprise today is how much diversity there is in the trees here at this part of the waterfront, a fact that’s brought to my attention while I’m staring at the detritus looking for more sparrows.
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As I walk back to the car trying to remember exactly where I parked it I look up and see a familiar pale blue jacket coming my way. It’s Rocky! When we come together I ask her if she noticed where the car was parked, since it’s somewhere near here. She doesn’t of course, because it’s not the sort of thing she would notice - I asked as a joke really, knowing the answer in advance. She’s had a fine walk, tells me about the great pumpkin, white chocolate scone she picked up not far from here, and then tells me that she’ll make eleven miles by the time she’s home. And it’s even better than that - 11.1, perfect for Remembrance Day.
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