Saturday was a gift from the Weather Gods to remind us why we endure the winter rain and coolness of the Pacific Northwest. With huge anticipation stoked by local meteorologists, the entire Portland Metro ventured outside on Saturday in t-shirts and shorts to show off an array of arctic white legs and celebrate the briefest return of the sun. It was a truly spectacular spring day filled with bright light, blue skies, and temps in the high 70s. All the fruit trees and bulb flowers were blooming, and we were able to spot – and name – five snow-covered volcanoes lined up along the eastern horizon. Breathtaking.
So how did we spend this frolicky day? Well, we started off in a bowling alley. A dark, cold alley filled with men who knew it was 5:00 somewhere and therefore kept the bartender busy even though the McDonalds next door was still serving Egg McMuffins. I chatted with another wife, all purple and sparkly, while our husbands competed in a county-wide tournament. They did pretty well. We’ll find out in a few weeks if they are in the money.
Our next stop was a llama show. Naturally. It was a very pretty drive about 45 minutes north so it sort of counted as being outside. I put my window down, my arm out, and gleefully watched the thermometer on the dash inch higher and higher. We arrived in time to meet a few llama folk and fellow members of the local llama association. (Yours truly is one of the newest members. Go ahead, ask who the other newest member is.) I was then handed a clipboard and given the Very Important Job of Gate Keeper. This meant I stood outside the show ring and made sure the llamas on the list were the llamas entering the ring. Really, it was just an excuse to hold a clipboard and get close to llamas. I learned a lot by eavesdropping and observing. My dream llama shall now be a brown medium wool male with a black muzzle.
Our drive back to Woodhaven had a slight detour to an annual tulip festival. Without planning, we’ve attended the festival every year since becoming locals. And I have megabytes of photos to prove it. Although tiptoeing through the tulips is always great fun, and we pre-ordered a nice array of orange tulips and pastel hyacinths for next year, the most memorable feature of the stop was the car stuck in a ditch. Right there, next to the entrance, was a car obviously confused by the glowing orb. Anywhere else, drivers get sketchy when it rains or snows. Here, we wig out when the sun shines.
When we got home in time for dinner, we knew it would be a totally rookie move to drag out the patio furniture. Indeed, today our patio is wet and wind-blown. Instead, we wisely opted for dragging a couple of chairs, a small table, some grilled hot dogs, chips, and a bottle of homemade wine down to the edge of our still-barren hill (see Aug 26, 2007 post). We sat there as the sun set, overlooking pines and birch and aspen, listening to a few distant riding mowers. We could hear some kids roaming around in the woods below, one little girl excitedly announcing, “I’m learning the way!!” As I listened to the kids laugh and giggle and call out to one another, it occurred to me that I was listening to the sounds of their childhood. How neat it would be to have a recording of me and my 5-year-old friends playing Red Light, Green Light and trying to catch fireflies.
Although the brilliance of spring lasted only one day, I think I can hold onto the memory until the next one comes along.
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