"Nose" Day in Everyday Ramblings

From yesterday, this picture reminds me a bit of those old colored postcards from the black and white days. This is a shot of Willamette Falls from an older train car. It is an amazing natural phenomenon that was wrestled away from the native tribes and industrialized during the peak timber exploitation. They still use it to generate power. There is a plan to take down most of the crumbling infrastructure and make it into a park area with viewing platforms.

The waterfall is round and goes down from the surface of the river. It has the feel of a sacred place, and it was to the peoples before us. They still fish for eels here.

To me now, it is a symbol of the rapacious nature of consuming the bounty of this landscape that so darkens our history and I hope against hope that as we move out of the pandemic in our tentative way, work can resume on the restoration.

Still, it was good to see it for the first time in over two years and to be traveling by train again. Baby steps.

I came back after dark, (I am rarely out after dark, these days) and some of the festive Christmas lights were up and on. We have this famous neon sign that has a White Stag across the top. It now says “Portland Oregon” and on the afternoon before Thanksgiving the folks that maintain the sign flip a switch and turn on a red nose for the Stag.

It was on last night and I could see it across the river as we came into town. We call the tradition “Nose Day”, and it is almost as old as me. :)

Our Thanksgiving was dry, unusual but not unheard of. Most everyone got in an afternoon walk. We didn’t eat too much but I do like this idea of everyone wearing pajamas to the feast.

It is a tradition for me to try to avoid Thanksgiving and I have tried all sorts of running away strategies over the last 30 years or so and usually I hunker down and over the last few years have celebrated with Dave and the Sherlocks. (Mrs. Sherlock brought over a plate for me last year before we were all vaccinated.) This year she had two of their tenants, a hiking friend and Dave over so I wasn’t missed.

I was happy to be with family, to be able to be with family, and to choose to be with family. My older sister used to travel on Thanksgiving (she said it was cheaper if she traveled on the day of) and I have spent time in snowstorms and ice storms and in the Greyhound bus station with her, not of my choosing but having it be my own decision and no one needing to go out of their way except a short trip to the local train station made me happy.

Speaking of our Greyhound Bus station, they closed it, it is right across the street from the train station, and it is a hellscape. Those of you enamored of dystopian novels, can take a peak and see what you think. Yes, there is a sense of community, and people do take care of each other but there was feces and syringes and needles and so much suffering over there yesterday.

The contrast between that and the Business Class lounge at the train station a block away is all very “Blade Runner”.

Two well healed men flagrantly not wearing their masks were in there. La la la la.

Today I am teaching and resting. The Pull-Up Pistol Squat Club started on Wednesday, and I am, well used. At least many of my muscles are.

26 days until the solstice… and oh boy am I counting.