November 21, 2023
Reflections
Stepping out the door this morning to walk over to Lovejoy Bakers, I pick up the reflections on the wall down the block to the east with my peripheral vision. I’ve been noticing the reflections on its block-long, mirror-like wall of glass for the last several days but hadn’t taken the next mental step to imagine what it might look like with the sunrise. I’m just lucky to be out the door at the right moment.
Forgetting that I have my phone and its probably better camera in my pocket, I flip open the iPad and point it down the street. I take a couple of shots before I realize that it would be better to walk to the corner and into the street and get the branches of an intervening tree out of the frame, and by then I’m just in time - the colors are already starting to lose their intensity.
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After I’ve polished off my almond croissant and read as much of the day’s news as I can stomach I spend a few minutes drafting an idea for a walk Rachael might enjoy and then turn my attention to rethinking the plan for our spin down France next fall - for me, as good a way to waste time as any.
When I step into the apartment again, the first thing Rachael wants to know about is this email I sent to myself last night. Subject line: Death Valley, content empty. I tell her that it’s a remeinder I sent to myself after reading an article about what Death Valley is like right now, with a striking amount of water in its basin from the exceptional rains they’ve had this year. I wanted to check out its few lodging options for the unlikely chance there’s an affordable vacancy that would fit into either our drive down or the one back from Tucson.
And there is! Amazingly enough, there’s exactly one room free at Stovepipe Wells next month, for what feels like the bargain price of $179/night. Thats’s less than what we were planning to pay for a place on the coast near La Jolla. It doesn’t take us long to agree that it would be amazing to see DV again, although maybe we won’t be taking that 5,000’ climb up to Dante’s View this time. We act fast. La Jolla and Borrego Springs are out (we’ll probably see them in February on the drive north instead), and four nights at Stovepipe Wells and three in Boulder City are in. It puts an extra skip in my step all day just thinking about it.
Two hours later, we’re in the Raven driving over to the Interstate Kaiser so I can get my Covid and flu shots. Rachael’s already been inoculated, so she’s along for the ride because she likes the idea I came up with for her daily baker’s dozen. She’ll start at Kaiser and walk east - through Irving Park to the Alameda district, then south through Laurelhurst Park where I pointed out there’s a restroom waiting for her at about the midpoint of her hike. From there, southwest through the Hawthorne District to the Ladd Addition, and then across the river on Tilikum Crossing and back home alongside the river.
After we park the car she heads inside to have a snack at the cafeteria and use their restroom before starting out, and I walk up the street to get twice jabbed before driving home again.
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Later after we’re both home we sit next to each other at the counter and share photographs from the day. As I suspected, she did love the walk - in spite of the fact that the restroom in Laurelhurst Park was locked up, forcing her later to stop in at Crema for a delicious treat as her excuse for using their services. She loved the neighborhoods, there’s still plenty of color on the trees to accent everything, and she brought back a stack of evidence to show how special the day was.
And my day was exceptional too. First off, the conditions were glorious - sunny, great visibility, almost warm even - as fine a day as you’ll find this time of year in Portland. And then, there’s the bike. After being off it for three weeks it feels like I’ve been made whole again as I bike along the waterfront, looking for other reflections to go with the theme of the day and hoping that maybe there’ll be a new bird to record at the end of it.
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The amphitheater is clogged with geese and gulls when I come to it - this really seems to be their winter hangout here - so I hop off the bike and slowly walk along the water’s edge checking them all out, hoping to find one with a smaller body and shorter beak than the others. And I do find one, a bit off the side from the main group of its larger California and Glaucous-winged cousins. It even looks like they’re harassing him some, frustrating me by chasing him away to soar off over the river before I’ve gotten a shot off.
But he comes back, and I get my shot. Short-winged gull! Later though, going over the book bible and comparing images, I see that I’m wrong. It’s probably a young ring-billed gull, a species I saw in Canada this summer. Smaller and stub-billed alright, but different.
And then though there’s a second candidate that glides in, another smallish gull shyly keeping off to the side. And this looks like the real deal. New bird!
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It’s not a huge ride - a flat fourteen miles, across Tilikum Crossing and down the east side of the river to Oaks Bottom and back. And it’s slow - another of those rides where I average maybe 7-8 mph because there’s so much reason to stop and look again.
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Back in town, I catch up with Rachael as she’s just passing beneath the Morrison Bridge - no surprise really, because I’ve been tracking her movement from time to time on the Garmin. We stop and chat, she telling me what a fine walk it’s been and especially how much she enjoyed her two treats along the way: a Java bean biscotti at Kaiser, and a large piece of focaccia with prosciutto, cheese and tomato from Crema that was as delicious as the ones we would get in Italy - large enough that she carried half of it home to enjoy later.
We don’t chat for long though, because it’s getting on in the day and starting to feel chilly. I bike ahead but only get a few yards before I have to stop for a shot of the Steel Bridge looking radiant in the late-day light. The siren is just starting up warning that the span is about to go up, and if it were warmer I’d wait for it to lift and for a shot of whatever it’s being raised for. This is good enough though, and I hurry on to the Lucky Lab to celebrate being off the spicy food and alcohol constraint I’ve been under ever since my extraction.
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