We stepped off the train with all of our bags, and we set out for a bus stop. Was it up 3 blocks, and over 1? Or was it down two blocks and over 4? Well, we found our way, and were safely delivered to our new neighborhood. I had this vision of Portland that was locked in late summer, mid fall, and very early spring, and I was eager to see those familiar seasonal gardens, colors, varieties. I was wholly unprepared for Portland in full spring, in dappled sunlight, beneath blue skies... which is to say Portland in bloom! Springtime in Portland, Oregon is stunning. The streets we crossed and followed, from bus stop to Airbnb, were lined with pretty homes with even prettier gardens and it seemed as though there was not a single square inch of earth that was not green or floral, sprouting or fragrant. Portland smells like roses! Not like a perfume or a florist's shop... it smells like flowers covering picket fences, abundantly cascading over walls, dancing on gentle breezes, and making the air light, rosy, sweet smelling. And these are my favorite sorts of gardens... untamed, loose and carefree, lovingly tended but not too fussed over.
Walk with me?
Just a few blocks.
Even the petals, fallen and fading, were captivating to me.