Bipolar Portland

Team SWASS crossing the finish line last weekend at Hood To Coast.

It is a cool morning. I'm wearing my over sized ten year old Patagonia fleece sweatshirt. Tomorrow is Labor Day. Rynn starts school on Tuesday. The light is settling in on our front porch in a decidedly different angle, and I sense that autumn is poking his crisp nose through our front door. We are at the Finish line of summer, and I feel the coming of this fall with mixed emotions. Our summer has been full and busy, the days so warm and sunny for Portland, and the time with my children so sweet (well, most of the time...). I'm eager for the return of routine and schedule and yet sad that the free, warm, open days of summer are at an end.

Forgive me if you've heard me say this a thousand times, but I have this theory about Portland. After living here now for two and a half summers and two full winters I believe that Portland suffers from a bipolar condition- we are manic in the summers and a bit depressed in the winter. There is a certain urgency here in summer that I have never felt anywhere else I have lived. The comment, "We have to get to (you fill in the blank- camping, mountains, coast, berry picking, farm, river rafting, church picnics, concerts in the park, etc...) before the rains come," is on the edge of everyone's lips. It can be downright stressful reading the newspaper and all the options laid out before you for potential activities, concerts, festivals, outdoor adventure, you name it, in July and August. And then, like someone set a timer, Labor Day weekend arrives and with it cool temperatures and the first three days of rain in a row since June. Neighbors rush to close off their blocks for that one last block party in the street before everyone retreats from their front yards, their porches, and the sidewalks to the coziness of the inside, of the umpteen coffee shops or pubs. It is then that the quiet bookishness of Portland sets in with the hoods of the rain jackets pulled down over the eyes as hipsters sip on their espresso and toss down a cigarette, as children pull on their new rain boots, and the campgrounds put up their signs "Closed for Winter."

We have finished our summer with flurry of activities in the spirit of true Portland style. We sent Nana (my mom) on her way after a great week with her. Thank you Nana for being patient with our grogginess after Hood to Coast! We said hello a day later to Terry and Cathy (Jason's parents) and then headed out for one last night of camping across the Columbia River in Washington's Gifford Pinchot National Forest. I think I have had enough sleeping in a sleeping bag this summer to sufficiently carry me through the winter.

So, raise a hot cup of coffee to the change of the seasons. Welcome, welcome fall!