The days are already getting shorter. It’s hard to believe since summer only recently arrived here in Western Oregon. Every dry, uncultivated lot and field is consumed with Queen Anne’s Lace, towering over the wild daisies and dandelions. Blackberry bushes consume everything in their path, spreading and expanding with a thorny vengeance. Farmers markets are in full swing and ripe with sweet cherries, strawberries, blueberries and peaches.
During my lunch break today, I sat under an umbrella in Pioneer Square and watched men & women in flip-flops and Birkenstocks push strollers and lug shopping bags full of fresh fruits & veggies. The aroma of the Philly Cheesesteaks from the cart across the way wafted my way and, as the crowds swarmed and sun bathed on the steps of the Square, a fire truck roared to a noisy stop, it’s mission–rescue the man laying on the bricks, seemingly unconscious and frying under the midday sun.
Young people canvassed the area imploring people to register to vote, save the whales, sponsor a needy child from a place far, far away. Men in sandwich boards printed with religious jargon hovered on the outskirts of the action, offering literature and prophecies. The lost, the lonely and the crazy wandered through it all, invisible to most.
Goodnight Monday. On to the next…