Portland Mandala

As I've said before, I'm very proud of this city. From the free range chickens that roam my neighborhood to the excellent public transportation, Portland has been touted as the city to watch in terms of city planning and community development. The following blurb, from the latest issue of the excellent news magazine The Week, is the latest to sing Portland's progressive praises. Read on and fall in love...




There’s a reason that Portland calls itself the “city that works,” said James Conaway in National Geographic Traveler. From its bicycle-friendly layout to its widespread recycling ethic, this “verdant, forward-thinking” city has many environmental and urban initiatives that the rest of the country could learn from. Yet although Oregon’s biggest metropolis could be considered a “model for America’s future,” what makes the place so unique is a sense of cooperation and community that at times can seem retro.

Despite being situated in the center of the Pacific Northwest, Portland often feels like a European city—carefully planned and efficiently organized. The work that went into creating this urban experiment began in 1903, when John Charles Olmsted designed a system of open spaces meant to accommodate rapid population growth. The layout also emphasizes Portland’s rich natural assets, such as the Willamette River, which runs through the city. Over the course of the 20th century, the city has made a point of encouraging growth within the metropolitan area, rather than sprawl into the surrounding countryside. “Livability” is “not just a mantra here—it’s a social imperative.” Streets and building plots are small, while sidewalks are broad and parks plentiful, and “environmental sensitivity has become part of Portland’s social fabric.” Then again, it’s easy being green in a city that’s “all about sustainable, low-impact” living.

Eight percent of Portland’s population bikes to work. For the rest of its denizens, a “lovely, Czech-designed” light-rail system conserves fuel, minimizes emissions, and connects the city’s diverse neighborhoods into a “wonderfully cohesive” whole. In the newly gentrified Pearl District, abandoned warehouses have been transformed into stately townhouses. The recently renovated Gerding Theater, a “stunning architectural redesign of concrete, steel, and glass,” features extensive outdoor landscaping irrigated by captured rain water. Across the river, in Southeast Portland, Hopworks Urban Brewery is the first eco-brewpub to make certified organic beer—and how many other microbreweries use burners fueled with biodiesel or recycle their old kegs into planters for native species of grass and flowers?
Contact: Travelportland.com

Pros and Cons of Humanity

During my morning walk through Woodstock Park with Cosmo, my sweet lab/ border collie pal, I was witness to both the beauty and the ugliness of humankind.
Why do people suck? Because, they are selfish and lazy, like the young douchebag who, after passing a garbage can which is conveniently placed next to the sidewalk, aggressively threw his not quite empty caramel/mocha frappacino-ish container into a small grove of trees, also conveniently placed next to the sidewalk. How do I know what that tossed container held? It was clearly marked and I read it as I bent over to pick it up to dispose of it properly. How do I know this kid is a douchebag? Actions speak louder than words, but I guess the young have the luxury of redeeming themselves.
This morning, someone else did his part in redeeming that young man and all of the other ugliness human beings can wreak. As I was fuming, tempted to hunt down the teenager and give him a piece of my mind (yeah, that would have been effective), the clear, soprano notes of a flute being played nearby found their way into my ears, befuddling my grouchy mood. I threw Cosmo's ball in the direction of the music and saw, against a small green hill, a man sitting in a camp chair, playing jazz flute, apparently to his pooch, who was sitting in the muddy grass a few feet away from the musician, listening intently. I wish I had taken my camera with me this morning. It was beautiful. This is why humankind is also beautiful.

In a world dominated by extroverts, it seems unlikely that gardeners, in general, are introverts. Gardening is such a personal means of self expression, and an emotional one as well, that it seems it might appeal to those, like myself, who dearly need a lot of time spent alone. Of course, gardening can be extremely social as well. It certainly is here in Portland, where, in springtime, hundreds of gardeners pot up their cuttings and offshoots to sell, usually out of their yard, garage, or (lucky them) greenhouse, to other gardening Portlanders.
This system is great for me. I'm not a people person, but I do like meeting and conversing with other gardeners. I always try to learn as much as I can. I've learned a lot from folks like Ms. Ott, whose dreamy urban farm paradise flourishes down the hill on Holgate Boulevard. I get my castor bean and Impatiens balfouri (poor man's orchid) starts from her. I also love strolling around her property, enjoying the glistening water of the rock pool, listening to the gentle clucking of the curious chickens, and noting the progress of her massive but very controlled raspberry brambles...the little ruby gems that eventually cover the bushes are some of the tastiest to be found in town.
After I visit Ms. Ott's, sometimes I go to visit Small World Plants, another homegrown business, with a slightly different focus. Owner Lee Kamrass offers out of her tiny greenhouse some of the most unusual and adorable plants I have ever seen. Most of her plants are naturally tiny or are dwarf cultivars of larger varieties. Come April, Lee's small but well organized yard will be full of colorful, infant, Japanese maples, succulents of all shapes an colors planted into tiny containers, petite evergreens, and, most likely, some fascinating new-to-me plants that I will marvel over then run home to research. My favorite acquisitions from Small World plants are the dwarf Sophora prostrata 'Little Baby', dwarf Juniperus communis, and my strappy little Gasteria excelsa.
So, gardening introverts...get out there this spring and see what other gardeners in your town are tending. You don't have to do much talking to communicate...gardeners can bond via the love of plants alone. Check out your local classifieds and see who's giving away or selling plants. Your neighborhood community center or church might offer a great selection and good deals as well. Set up an ad hoc plant sale in your yard or garage and give away or sell some of your own extras. Perhaps we introverts will bump into each other and become friends.

p.s. the photos above are both Sophora prostrata 'Little Baby" , which is a native, New Zealand legume

Wicked Plants

For me, reading about plants comes in at a close second to actual gardening. I'm great at fantasizing and my garden fantasies only increase in splendor when I am nose deep in some horticultural tome. I've just finished reading Amy Stewart's latest book, the darkly humorous "Wicked Plants: The Weed That Killed Lincoln's Mother And Other Botanical Atrocities" ...took no more than one or two hours spent in the bubble bath. Some of my favorite plants are quite poisonous, like castor bean 'Carmentcita', the incredibly prolific datura of any cultivar, and the many varieties and cultivars of euphorbia. Common garden knowledge perhaps, but Amy Stewart, with a casually morbid voice, packs some fascinating information into this little tome. Petite and poison green, the book is a pleasure to hold and behold. Perfect for bathroom reading of any kind! Let the author, in this video, tease you with a trailer. Enjoy! x

The Stairways of Reed College

My southeast Portland neighborhood, Woodstock, is right across busy 39th Avenue from the lovely, liberal arts university, Reed College. If I had half of my shit together when I was a college student, I would have loved going to school there. It is known for its progressive student body and faculty...apparently, however, it supposedly also has a nuclear reactor somewhere on campus...physics is another popular major at Reed. These days I take a lot of pleasure walking down to the campus through the delightfully creepy swamp that sort of bisects the college property. The swamp, called Crystal Springs, during the winter, looks like a setting from of Lord of the Rings. You half expect Gollum to suddenly pop out from beneath the equisetum with a live fish in his mouth. If something does emerge from the water here, it's most likely one of the displaced nutria that live and breed in the swamp.
The venerable campus buildings loom above the springs, kind of a reassurance that you are a stone's throw away from academe. Leading up to these temples of higher learning, from the rough, muddy trail of the springs are a series of rugged stairways. Looking up at them from the trail, I wondered how many Reed students make their way to class each day through the misty, primordial swamp and emerge into "civilization" using these stairways. What a way to start the school day. Perhaps students who use the stairs feel the same way I do when I look up from the trail at these "stairways to heaven"... that I possess knowledge of a secret passageway from the world of untamed nature into the rational world of men.

Froggy Fail

Check out this quick, cut video for a little hit of weekend comedy. Much thanks to Oregon Public Broadcasting for posting this on their Facebook page! x

Migrainium

I've been muddling through the past couple of days plagued by a tenacious migraine. As a plant lover, I'd love to be able to reach for some unsullied botanical remedy for this pain. I've heard tell about the wonders of feverfew (Tanacetum parthenium) but have never been brave enough to concoct and drink what I assume would be a nasty brew...feverfew leaves do not smell appetizing.
Eucalyptus oil seems to help a little if I inhale the fumes straight from the bottle. I have been resorting to dabbing a small amount of VapoRub on my eyelid, which seems to have an analgesic effect, if only a temporary one. Of course, one has to be careful to not get any of the rub into the eye, but the cooling effect does provide some short term relief until the pharms kick in.
Here's hoping I will have departed Migrainium before the next post!

Eyeball Buzz

I adore weird plants...the eyeball plant or toothache plant (Spilanthes oleracea) is a funky little tuft of flora. Now it is coming into its fifteen minutes of fame...check this out!

Gardening has taught me so much about life and how to live it. Among those many lessons, one in particular seems most relevant these days. Gardening has driven home the idea that it is fruitless (pun intended) to cling to the status quo. Every gardener learns to make peace with ephemera, defeat, and outright failure... after all, there is always something new to plant, right?
I moved to Portland from Bend a year and a half ago and, as I have mentioned in previous posts, I left behind a beloved garden, tended for almost a decade in a funky space behind our house. The last three springs and summers I lived in that house were glorious ones for the garden...the space looked especially harmonious after we painted the house's exterior. Just as conditions in my garden were close to optimal, we decided to sell our house and leave Bend.
I have no regrets in moving to Portland. My family gave up a lot to move here, but it was done with hopes of positive change earned through hard work and sacrifice. I personally fell in love with this city, in part, because of the primordial fecundity...there is always something growing here, even if it is an enthusiastic patch of mold between your bedroom wall and your bed. The gardens here are incredibly charming and retain their beauty well into winter.
And so there will be other gardens, but I still pine for that little patch of earth back in Bend. I hope the new owners appreciate what they inherited. But I can't pine too much, because it's gone now and I just have to look forward to gardens to come. The change excites me, gets the juices flowing.
And so life can be, like a favorite short-lived perennial who flourishes gloriously and is gone. It leaves behind a space for something new to potentially become just as beloved. Change is good.

How cool is this...once again, Portland shows up in the New York Times with state of the art, environmental architecture. Jog on, Senators McCain and Coburn!

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Stumptown

It's been awhile since I've posted anything....summer time got in the way and it was downhill from there. I'm back, now that it's mid-winter, and I am craving some time spent in the dirt and muck.

Portland is a gardening town, which is no secret to residents or anyone who has ever been here. Stuff grows all year long...in fact, I would say fall and winter are the best seasons for lawns since no one around here waters their lawns come summer. The typically grey winter skies of Portland can be ominous and gloomy. But if you get out and about, you will find so many shades of green in yards, parks, sidewalks, etc. The accompanying photo was taken about two weeks ago onone of my many walks.