running of the swifts

Last Sunday eve I met Lance in northwest. The cloud cover was impressive, rain impending—and yet, over to Chapman High School we went to sit on the wet lawn under the big spruce tree and watch the Swifts fly. Have you heard about this? During late September, hundreds of tiny, sparrow-like birds roost in the massive ancient chimney. As dusk approaches, you get to watch as they swarm around in the cool evening air, feasting on invisible clouds of insects. The multitude swirls and swirls, then blasts apart into chaos, then snaps back into its funnel-like formation again. You can watch this spectacle for hours—it's very Hitchcockian. And just before dark, in a grand crescendo, they all at once swoop into the chimney for the night.

If you're lucky like we were, you'll glimpse a wise old hawk barrel through and snatch a swift in its grizzled talons. You see, he'd been sitting there  silently watching the whole time ... waiting. He'll escape with the thing shrieking inside his claws and then gorge himself on hot bloody bird parts. Sad, sort of, but part of the cycle of life, too.

Adios Koerner-Ansons!

This just in: The Ashley and Scott now live in Southern California. Crazy, right? I knew it was official when Scott changed his Facebook "location" to Huntington Beach. And it'll be weird around here without them! No more "What r u doing 2night?" texts from Ashley of a Friday night. No more "You're blowing it!" from Scott when I can't go to the river due to work. No more cold shoulder from house cat Bo when I try to force-cuddle him. Portland's gonna be sad and lonely, I'm telling you. But I'm happy to know that they're down their in the sunshine, smiling, paddling around in that pool at their apartment complex.

They had a going away thingy the other night. We shredded Nike park, then took it to the Morrison Hotel, where the beer selection is so massive that everyone just looked confusedly at the menu and then ordered Hamm's. Derek tried to rip off Scott's T-shirt, Scott punched Derek in the mouth, you know, just a bunch of friends hanging out.

Anyway, we miss you guys!! Ashley, who'm'I supposed to go to the Polish Festival with?!

Lovejoy had a baby! Kidding. This lovely tiny creature called Francis belongs to Steve.

Ramp talk.

A "friendly" bout at the bar.

How Many Dreams In The Dark

This is an artsy town. If you went to every art show in Portland, you'd barely have time to  sleep or eat.  Or drink a Pabst. I'm lucky if I make it to one every few months. But this latest exhibit at Nemo drew me in. A photography show by Chris Brunkhardt. He self-published a book, you see, full of snowboard photography and other photo journalism. Lovely stuff. It was "my era." If you know what that means, well, then you know. If not ... I dunno. But all these snapshots, an entire wall, literally—how fun to look through them all.

Jeffy. So young. Round cheeks and stuff. RIP.

Seaone—he's a whole lot beardier now.

And a pretty picture of another person who's passed on. Craig Kelly, Alaska. It's nice, right?

It's Fall

Sweeping is good for you. It's meditative. What these photos don't show is the smell of woodsmoke from a brush pile out back—or how with every breath of wind, another curtain of leaves silently falls to the ground, ruining all the work you just did.

More Windell's new stuff—hard edge for days.

No Pictures

Hello. Long time no talk. How are you? I'm fine. I've been listening to lots of O'Death and eating a honeycrisp apple every day. It is September, after all. Anyhoo, Melissa, that's my older sister, came to visit this weekend—and can you believe I didn't take a single photo? Instead I've included the above—one of her new paintings, which I find simultaneously relaxing and transcendent. Besides, I read something recently about how cameras are just a distraction from really seeing, experiencing, and remembering things. Weakens the camera in your brain, if you will. But I digress.

She arrived on a Friday and left on a Monday, giving us just over 48 hours to visit all four corners of this fair metropolis. And that we did.

Southeast: Produce Row for miraculous veggie eggs benedict.

Northeast: Together Gallery to "see some art." Pinski was there gleefully shipping packages.

Northwest: Lunch at Elephants Delicatessen. Have you been? Lavendar soda, cold caprese sandwich—nuff said.

Southwest: The Saturday Market with Lady Coulon, which included a brief Alqueada Chris sighting.

And in between it all was much time spent on the couch drinking fermented grape beverage and talking about science and science fiction.