One Thing I Love About Portland

There are, of course, many, many things I love about my city. It's beautiful and green and full of bike lanes and good coffee, beer, music, art, parks, libraries --I could go on and on. There are good reasons why people have relocated to Portland in droves.

But imagine this, if you will: twilight on a steep slope, tucked up against Portland's West Hills. Hundreds of people, young and old, families, couples, and babies with strollers, bikes, and dogs, all spread out on the grass. Many are having al fresco dinners ranging from gourmet feasts to cheap pizza. Everyone is chatting and laughing, kids are running around and rolling down an empty part of the slope. People squeeze in politely to place a blanket down and claim their tiny space before the show gets started. The sun sinks lower in the west and suddenly there's a buzz in the air as people start to exclaim "here they come!".
In parts of Portland on a late summer evening, you'd be expecting similar crowds for Shakespeare or the symphony, or perhaps some other type of live music. This is a show all right, but it's all about birds.

Tiny Vaux's Swifts roost by the thousands in a tall brick chimney which was formerly part of the heating system at Chapman Elementary School. During the month of September, the swifts arrive as part of their annual migration. The birds used to use cavities in old growth trees but apparently an old brick chimney is a workable modern day substitute because an astounding number of birds show up, year after year.

They begin coming in from all directions as the sun sets. The numbers aren't impressive initially and first-time visitors tend to wonder what all the fuss is about (and might be more firmly convinced that Portlanders are nuts). Before too long, however, the numbers increase dramatically and thousands of birds start to swirl around the chimney. Often a hungry raptor will show up for an easy meal but they must have been well fed this year because we saw no sign of any hawks. Sometimes the tiny swifts do manage to chase them off but last night it wasn't necessary.
Everyone's eyes are focused on the swirl of birds above the chimney when they all seem to receive some sort of signal and in they go, just like that. They just keep pouring in, hundreds at a time. Occasionally a few will pop back out, perhaps unable to find a space to settle on the first attempt. Before a few minutes have passed the sky will once again be clear as every one of the thousands of birds has tucked in together for the night, to keep warm and conserve strength for the long flight south.
As the last birds drop into the chimney, the humans watching the show began to clap and cheer. It's growing dark and already chilly, clearly not summer anymore but what a way to spend one of the year's last fine evenings.

A Walk in the Woods

Sometime last year we purchased a great book called Portland Hill Walks written by a Laura Foster who is not MY Laura Foster, artist and dear friend, but a completely different Laura Foster who has put together a wonderful guidebook with a series of fascinating and sometimes challenging expeditions. The Spouse took two of the three kids on this particular recommended walk last summer and MonkeyBoy wanted to go again. This time The Princess had to walk on her own as she has finally and completely outgrown and sort of carrying device, but she was a trooper and manged the whole nearly 3 miles on her own. We started in a charming neighborhood in NW Portland that I'd never in all my years here had occasion to visit: lovely little secluded streets and lanes, gorgeous homes, fabulous gardens. All picture perfect and charming, but I do confess to musing on the well maintained and clearly little used tiny streets when across town there are blocks and blocks of gravel and potholes east of 82nd avenue where I'm sure attention from The City would be appreciated. Maybe these folks pay for their own street maintenance? Anyway, our stroll through the neighborhood was delightful if a bit like Disneyland in its perfection.

Eventually we came to Macleay Park and spent a long time wandering through the forest in a leisurely manner. It was a perfect early summer day and we enjoyed exploring, from the remains of an old stone cabin to Balch Creek. The trails got a bit crowded with high powered runners decked out in fancy gear, but it was still possible for our family to poke along and take in the sights. I saw my first red breasted sapsucker in many years and there were all kinds of lovely things to photograph:


At one point a very jovial man came along and offered to take a family snapshot. Since I am always the one behind the camera, I happily took him up on it despite The Dark Lord's apparent fear that the fellow was going to run off with my new camera. He didn't, of course, and took a fine photo as well:

A First!

Way back in the pre-parenting dark ages I developed a sudden interest in birding. It was as if a switch had been flipped and I suddenly started seeing all the birds around me and actually caring what they were. I think it's a family thing as all the women on my mom's side of the family know (or knew) their birds and knew them well. I purchased a number of reference books and pored over them, absorbing information about habitat and calls. I remember dreaming about birds at various times. I had a pretty good life list going back then but it all came to a screeching halt once kids entered my life as they really aren't the best birding companions.

We took a trip with friends to Ridgefield Wildlife Refuge today and it was a birder's paradise with marshy areas, open water, grasslands, and forest. Amazingly, I even remembered to bring along my binoculars and a field guide. We saw all kinds of things: herons, egrets, doves, swallows, flycatchers, and more. But when a large brown bird took off from the cattails, I was stumped. The boys had run ahead with the field guide so it took me a while to look it up and, lo and behold, it was one of these:The American Bittern is not particularly rare, but they're shy and not easy to spot. They always looked so endearing in the bird books as they are usually shown holding their bills aloft in an attempt to look like pond grass. I'd never thought about what they might look like flying, but there was no doubt that's what I'd seen. This was a bird I'd always wanted to see so it felt like quite a triumph once I identified it.
Our outing was lovely. No rain, but no hot sun, either. At 4.2 miles, the walk turned out to be just a bit longer than the 1.5 we'd planned on, but we started out in the wrong place and by the time we realized our error we were far enough along the trail that it made no sense to go back. The kids whined and I ended up carrying The Princess for the last of it, but it was a fine spring outing nonetheless.

Eagles

They seem to be popping up everywhere. We saw a pair of bald eagles overhead a few weeks ago, last week at the beach one flew by the beach house, no more than 6 feet from the big picture window. Today we spent most of the afternoon outside, The Spouse toiling away in the garden while I sat in the sun and spun up some new roving. Looking up I spotted first one, then two bald eagles lazily circling overhead. And then, I swear, they began tossing to each other as they flew through the sky. This went on for ten minutes or so, allowing each of us to get a good look at them as they went on about the business of perpetuating the species.