Portland

I never had to think much about the culture of Portland since the city of Portland talks about itself so much. Portland has pride and is quirky, like me.

But people and places must be described.

I moved away and now when I return, I find people tucked under the tree tops, walking their dogs. They smile at me from under their hooded raincoats and say, “hello.” I find myself eagerly returning a “hello.”

There aren’t so many people you can’t greet each other walking down the road.

There is pride in the land. There is a pride in the craftsmanship: leather bags, Douglas fir beams, Pendleton wool in its native designs, practical Nikes.

And the people look like people, even the ones with a vertical half-shaved head and electric-pink eyeliner. One pant leg rolled up for the manual commute, gray hairs, thick glasses, real tattoos.

Everything grounded, maybe because that’s where the rain takes things: down.

Here dreams don’t rise, they swirl. You mix dreams into your cup of coffee in the morning. Coffee so cozy it makes the caffeine-free envious.

You can smell it. There’s water in the air and down the street. And down in the stream most the year. Your neighbor’s tree came down and now there’s lumber chopped up in the front drive.

The only thing that penetrates the endless gray being the endless green. Houses tucked under the canopy like mushrooms in the woods.

Everything grows, largely without purpose.

When the sun appears in May, the pale, pale people crawl out into the sun. Those who have been hiking in darkness finally see the light.

There’s so much to catch up on: who had kids, whose kids moved into their parents’ old house across the street, what they turned the old Abertsons into, how the baseball team is doing this year.

The small city craving to be taken seriously. Yearning to be misunderstood. A small dog barking.

Not Seattle. Not Charlotte. Certainly not Los Angeles, despite the transplants.

Everyone fermenting together in the valley like a bowl.

It’s sweet and musky. Old and young. Wet but not humid. Soft and strong.