Archive Page 2
During the downpours on an Oregon coastal stream, I had occasions to set my rod down and re-rig. When I would look down at the Hatch reel, I would note the contrast of a beautifully machined implement, the brilliance of the fly line and backing against the wet greens, browns, and grays. To my mind, it was rich looking in textures and colors.
The rod, a 10 wt. Winston Boron rod, once belonged to John Hagan…a dear friend and avid fly fisher, shop owner, who passed on not long ago. I was honored to receive the rod from his son, Jack Hagan and this past weekend the rod (and reel) performed flawlessly against big fish, even if I didn’t always match up to the moments. Power vs. power, a beautiful thing to feel and behold.
Having been born and raised in Portland, Oregon (somewhat of a rarity to find these days), I have seen the evolution of Portland in several directions…some so-so, some good. One of the finer developments in the city has been the pronounced blossoming of food at many levels..sophisticated eateries abound and my focus here, food carts. Forgive me if I leave out the obligatory, orgasmic mention of VooDoo Donuts…seriously, get over it.
Last night, my better half and I explored SE Portland down along SE Division and came upon the Tidbit Food Cart block at SE 28th Pl. It was alive and bustling on a Sunday night. A city block, once vacant, has been cleared and a circling of the food cart wagons has resulted in a pleasant arrangement, typical of Portland Food Cart corrals.
The offerings are typical (Thai, Mexican, Central American, Scandinavian, Pizza, Beer, Sweets) but the flavors are always unique and to be savored from cart to cart as each creative maestro grills away for waiting patrons. We have visited quite a few of these food cart venues and always find the people watching, energy/vibe, pace to be very pleasing. Often there is live music.
If you are ever in Portland for an extended stay, try out one of the 500 some food carts nestled on these city lots.
The temps have been moderate, seemingly pleasant near Portland this early Fall. The leaves are still holding on with few exceptions…barely turning color. But, there is a change in the garden. A slowly ticking clock shows changes every morning. A heavy rain brings even more evident change. I go away for a few days and upon returning the changes are more pronounced.
I think this is where I’m suppose to wax on about the beauty of mother nature, God’s divine blessings bestowed upon the gardener, my sense of satisfaction for a well earned outcome of gardening. But, I have to say I don’t feel that. I am, most probably temporarily, saddened by the demise of the garden and the beauty that bloomed hard this past Spring/Summer.
But, there in the garden, a small blessing was found. A rose that had not done well with the heat. Now, clamoring for my attention…’Look at me you old moper….smile!’ Yes, I will make my transition to Fall. I had already started embracing Fall, while fishing at the coast. Coming home to the changes in the garden slowed me down for a bit. Such are the constant changes in life.