January 30, 2005

• Spring in Sellwood

  
  

   

  
  

  My windows were up and the radio was playing that “don’t forget to call…” — Something about don’t lose my number you may want to call me someday.  I think the name was Michael.  Was it a Steely Dan song?  And this song always seems to come on, through the years, when I’m on a driving adventure.  Not lost, just looking. 

  
  

   

  
  

  Out of the corner of my eye, to my left, I see a head pop up, behind a garage.  She’s maybe 11 or 12.  I’m on a fairly main, two-lane road.  There’s a tavern at the bottom of the hill where this road meets the big highway.  Their house, which has caught my eye before, because of the laundry stacked up on the back of the couch, is the last house before the tavern.  The girl’s head pops up again, and either I am seeing double or she has a twin.  They each have the same long, wild hair.  It would be an Afro, except that they are half white and their hair is just slightly bushy.  The bottom third of their hair has been identically dyed a hideous blonde. 

  
  

   

  
  

  Round and robust, these girls must be jumping on a trampoline.  They enthusiastically throw their arms up in the air, gaining elevation.  I bet they’re whooping and hollering.  They have big smiles.  The afternoon sun has forced a make-believe spring day and they celebrate.  The girl on the right does something so graceful with her arms.  It’s such a grand gesture.  She leaps up and her arms travel in an arc, one leg out behind her like a ballerina.  Her sister attempts it but lacks the confidence and form to pull it off.  The dancer shows her again, and again she tries to copy but she just can’t get the range.  They leap up again, together, almost crashing into each other.  I can see the dancer’s arms go around the other’s neck.  It’s twin love.

  
  

   

  
  

  The light turns green and my adventure is off to a beautiful start.  I looked on Mapquest for this park, after hearing about it from where I’ve been walking the dogs.  I am falling short on my resolution to find a place to walk.  The Park down by the river is handy but it’s no place where I can get three miles in or anything.  And I’m tired of all the geese and their shit.  The dogs love it, though.  The older one still manages to roll in it every time.

  
  

   

  
  

  I have no trouble finding this park.  Lots of people and their kids are here.  I see playground equipment and what looks like a school, which is being used for something else.  There is some kind of game going with a bunch of kids and a Frisbee.  And there are tennis courts down below.  It’s huge and I walk the perimeter.  I’m glad I left the dogs at home as this is not a good place for the puppy:  heavy traffic and lots of little ones.   I see an interesting garden across the street so instead of getting back in my car, after I’ve checked the park out, I start walking the neighborhood.

  
  

   

  
  

  The neighbors seem to all know each other.  People are out in their yards or out walking.  It looks like it’s after five o’clock.  The sun is starting to set.  Everyone’s enjoying the beautiful day, getting the last bit of sun.  I see purple violets coming on and I come to a halt when there before me is a tree of daphne.  I smelled it just to make sure ‘cause I’ve only seen bushes before.  I even saw iris blooming on the side of someone’s house.  There are some real artistic types living here. This one front porch had a beautifully woven rug with two rockers and a cat that matched the rug.  A pot of grasses graced the rail and I just stood and stared.  So much style.  The garden was the same low-key study in texture.  They had bamboo and roses and everything in between. 

  
  

   

  
  

  The girls made me want to dance and the neighborhood made me want to garden.  I’m bursting with inspiration.

  • 10:20 pm
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