The last best day

November 5, 2023

It’s another stunning day, the fall foliage as resplendent as I remember seeing it here. It’s the one upside of having shortened our tour of Spain - we haven’t been back in Portland at this time of year for awhile. It’s frustrating that I can’t hop on the bike and head out to Sauvie Island or that my knees don’t make a longer hike in the West Hills sound attractive, but it’s too nice to just sit inside. With rains due to return tomorrow, this could easily be the last best day of the fall.

While Rachael’s off on another brisk ten mile hike of her own I drive up to Washington Park thinking I’ll park somewhere near the zoo and have a leisurely walk through the Arboretum checking out the trees. The plan more or less works, in that I have a fine walk and do find some trees. I don’t park by the zoo though, or in its upper parking lot, or up by the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. I end up completely outside the park, lucky to find a vacant spot on the shoulder of Fairview Boulevard that’s close enough that it’s an easy walk back to the nearest trailhead, the White Pine Trail. As it turns out, I’m not the only person in town with the brainstorm that today might be a good day to head up to Washington Park. The place is crawling with people walking along slowly, stopping to gaze in wonder or pose for photos in front of another glorious scene.

No new birds though.

Franklin Tree. I’ve never heard of this shrubby tree, extinct in the wild now. It was discovered in what’s now Georgia in 1765 by the early American botanist William Bartram, a Pennsylvania Quaker who named his discovery after his cousin Benjamin.

This must be about as good as it gets here. I predict a lot of leaf drop in the next few days.

Sassafras. This one always makes me think of dad, who would harvest it from the woods back in West Virginia to brew tea when I was a child.

Southern Magnolia (Magnolia grandiflora ‘Victoria’), named for its large, showy blossoms. It’s leaves are pretty large too though - my foot is almost exactly a foot long, and these fallen leaves must be twice that.

As promised, we’re both back home by one and soon after drive down to the waterfront for lunch at the McCormick and Schmicks place we like to stop in at after a summer bike ride and eat on the sidewalk overlooking the marina, watching the action in the waterfront while walkers, bikers and scooters crowd past our other shoulder. No outdoor seating today, but we get a nice window seat indoors and enjoy a shared chopped salad and our cedar planked salmon mains. Rachael substitutes mashed potatoes for the mixed vegetable contorni, because she’s got her own tooth issue - when she went in for her dental appointment last week she came back with a new temporary crown that will keep her on soft foods and chewing on one side of her mouth until she gets her permanent one swapped in.

The long-anticipated rains arrive by midafternoon, and it’s pouring when we drive in the dark over to Alberta Rose theater for the Seffarine concert. We saw Seffarine a long time ago, I think at a venue down in Lake Oswego but I can’t remember for sure now and Rachael doesn’t remember seeing them before at all. I’ve been on their mailing list ever since though, and once or twice a year I hear that they’re scheduled for a performance in Portland again. I didn’t really expect we’d ever get a chance to see them live again so I’m pleased that the timing works out this time.

Seffarine is at its heart a couple, though they’ve added sidemen and perform as a quintet tonight. Lamiae Naki, the vocalist, is a Moroccan from Fez; and her husband, Nat Hulskamp, is a Portlander and instrumentalist who spent much of his life learning his craft from the experts in Andalucia and Morocco. Nat teaches music on the Reed College faculty, and performs on the flamenco guitar and oud.

They’ve matured a lot since we first saw them maybe a decade ago. It was a pretty empty house then as I remember it, but they’ve sold out the 400 seat venue tonight. And they put on an absolutely stunning show, accompanied by Bobak Salehi, an Iranian that performs on an array of strange-looking stringed instruments; Daniel Erskine on bass (and I’m surprised to see that I’ve heard Daniel perform before, backing up his uncle Peter on piano at Jimmy Mak’s years ago); and most magically of all, Manuel Gutierrez (from southern France, but his parents emigrated there from Cordoba) on cajón (flamenco box drum); and when he’s not rhythmically slapping the box in accompaniment he’s dancing, putting on an astonishing Flamenco display that brings down the house.

A wonderful night, and one we feel good about supporting because it’s also a fund-raiser for the victims of the devastating earthquake that Morocco suffered through two months ago, its worst earthquake in over a century. It sounds like some of the worst damage was in the Atlas Mountains, and I wouldn’t be surprised if places Racpat and Susan visited and showed us here earlier this fall are disaster scenes now. If you have the inclination and means to contribute, there’s a link on the Serrafine website.

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	11
Comment on this entry	Comment	7

Steve Miller/GrampiesNice tree photos!
Reply to this comment
1 year ago

Susan CarpenterGlad you're able to enjoy the spectacular fall colors in Portland this year. And Serrafine sounds like a group I need to look up!

I want to thank you for noting Serrafine's fundraising efforts for victims of the Moroccan earthquake. Thankfully, we heard that none of our guides or their families were injured. Areas of Marrakech that received the most damage included the Medina where I stayed and the large central plaza where I had lunch, Jemaa el-Fna. I saw videos of the iconic Kutubiyya Mosque trembling and shaking, but it did not fall.

Our group traveled in the Atlas Mountains east of Marrakech while most of the damage was to the south of the city - I'm not sure how much those eastern areas were affected. I would guess that both share a landscape populated by small Berber villages so it was not hard to imagine how the structures might crumble during such a devastating quake. My interactions with the warm and friendly Berber people and experiencing the history and culture of Morocco made the devastation that much more real and personal to me. So thanks again for posting the info.
Reply to this comment
1 year ago

Mark HoffmannI agree with Steve, that these are terrific fall color shots of trees and leaves!

In trying to make the best use of our ZS60 I have wondered about the optimum default settings. For your use, do you keep the menu ring on iA, or leave it at A and adjust the aperture often, or do something else? A mini-tutorial on your go-to approach would be valuable, as your photos are really good.

At the recent full moon I tried (but failed) to get clear zoomed shots of the moon, so the learning goes on.
Reply to this comment
1 year ago

marilyn swettSuch beautiful fall colors!
Reply to this comment
1 year ago

Scott AndersonTo Mark HoffmannI always keep it on iA. I’ve experimented around with adjusting aperture or exposure from time to time, but have never really seen any improvement - and it takes more thought and time, and Rachael thinks I spend too much time staring through the lens as it is. I do run nearly everything through the built-in photo editor on the iPad afterwards, to crop and adjust exposure or contrast to bring out what interested me in the first place.

The moon is tricky, alright. It’s hard to get the right conditions for a well-focused shot, and I’m not really clear on why it works so well sometimes and not others.
Reply to this comment
1 year ago

Janice BranhamWe'll have missed the fall color show by the time we get home. I really enjoyed seeing yours.
Reply to this comment
1 year ago

Mark HoffmannTo Scott AndersonThanks, Scott. That gives me more confidence in the iA setting. I appreciate your comments.
Reply to this comment
1 year ago