6.25.2015

radiate the inarticulate


Another stretch of time has gone by since I last wrote.  It's always hard for me to find the words that adequately express what I want to say about each group of pictures I post here, each moment I want to remember, each sensation and emotion of the day.  I am left hoping that the pictures somehow radiate those feelings I can't quite articulate.  There's always a certain silence, even in the midst of the roar of the day, and there's always wonder, love, and gratitude.  {Can you feel it?}

Father's Day, 2015.  Lost Lake, Mt. Hood National Forest. 

6.10.2015

suddenly


Suddenly, it feels like summer.  Thor's last day of school was yesterday.  The tomato plants are growing by leaps and bounds.  The day lilies, peonies, and calla lilies are in bloom.  The lilacs, iris, camellias, and rhododendrons are spent.  Lawnmowers seem to growl from every direction.  Our fingers are perpetually stained from picking a handful of raspberries every time we step out back.  I open up the windows early every morning to let in the cool air, and close it up again when it starts to get hot.  Yes, hot.  The heat has come to Portland.  The last few days have been in the 90s, too hot for me, but my husband loves it, and when the temperature goes up, he and Thor can't wait to get to a river.  Tuesday night we all hopped in the car for a quick trip to Barton Park.  It's not our favorite place to hang out, having a bit of a party atmosphere in summer, but late in the day there are few people there, especially if you are willing to walk upriver on the rocks and through the bushes a ways.  As the sun got lower and lower, the boys body-surfed the current downriver and walked back up the shallow side again and again.  (They found a dead eel!)  Ah, yes.  We're ready for you, summer.  You with your inviting and glistening rivers and lakes, you with your early morning light and birdsong, you with your supermagical garden-growing sunpower.  You with your evenings that seem to last forever.   

Last weekend we took a slow drive up Lolo Pass Road, stopping here and there to appreciate how beautifully lush and green everything is right now.   We had planned to hike around Lost Lake in the Mt. Hood National Forest, but as soon as we got there and my husband saw the rowboats, that was it.  He loves to row.  For two hours we soaked up the sun, the wind-driven rhythm of the lake, and the view of Mt. Hood.  We're already planning our next trip there with our kayaks, a blanket, a picnic basket, and our minds on nothing but the bliss of the moment.