Good-Bye Portland

 Another round of autumn has drifted into winter. Only memories now, the multi-colored clouds of trees and that special musty, spicy scent that rises up from wind fluttered leaves.  Always my favorite time of the year. Briefly sweet, layered in summer memories and wrapped in holidays lights.  Soup by a crackling fire with a new pile of books to read.  Natures' space of transition and reflection.  Sitting here at the Human Bean on Sandy in Portland, Oregon, I am preparing to say good-bye. New tastes and sights will stretch my coffee adventure wings. First stop, New York...

My last eclectic wanderings in search of unusual, original coffee shops here in Portland stalled last week. Had I found all The City of Roses had to offer? Big Blue cruised slowly, eating city miles even as gas prices rise daily.  My bike is in storage, caught in a saga of shipping chaos. The nomad life has challenges that seem to change by the day. Pandemic 2021 flowing into 2022. One can only pivot so much before falling over.  

I love how old words are branded up for new sales.  Think about it. "Pivoting" is now a LinkedIn job skill.  How that works I have no idea. When I pivot, am I at the center holding it all together or, running in circles to keep up with it all? And, if I fall over, am I still resilient? How does one actually measure a persons resilience? 

 Today, I feel as if I have dipped into all the mom-and-pop coffee-shops and hit the dregs at last. Searching "coffee shop" on my app brings up a cold list. I am feeling a shade of blue as the rain stutters against the windshield wipers.  Winter is a mixed bag of feelings. 

In the grey frame of my window, a line of motorcycles catches my attention. Layered together like dominoes. Huddled in all their glory against the rain.  I like motorcycles, so slow to admire their powerful beauty and promise of freedom. Big Blue's engine grumbles. She is a highway cruiser, her weight powered by speed. Slow is not her pace. But, she bears with me in my endless searches.

A sign glows in the window behind the motorcycles. Yes, a coffee shop! Comment on life, slow can bring unexpected perks. With a feeling of pride, Big Blue rumbles to a space at the end of the line. A solid car stop to the bike parade.  I grab the camera and bag, stepping out to a new coffee experience in my old city. 

Am I alone in my desire for new sights, smells, and voices, Is my blood tainted by a distant wandering ancestor? Much as I love my homely comforts, the world beyond the doorstep is forever a siren song I cannot resist. Leading beyond the set boundaries to poke down crooked alleys. To wander the world guided merely by the scent of coffee or a fragment of music drifting in the air.  

What makes one into a wanderer? Is it an inquisitive spirit or, a lost soul?  We used to be natural nomads, in the ancient days. When did our worlds become set and smaller?  Maybe, our sense of humanity is born in these wandering moments. In seeing and experiencing new feelings, sharing with strangers. Being a part of the bigger world. For me, coffee is a gateway to new ideas. An elusive search for the vibrating soul of the world.  Each cup is a shared story with strangers. Strangers with the potential to become new friends,  A new taste of life on my tongue.

 

I am saying goodbye to Portland, Oregon, and, my beloved "Big Blue".  So many adventures together.  I will miss you.  I will miss the music and eclectic neighborhoods. The beautiful moss-covered trees and flowing, sparkling rivers. Summer blue skies and street festivals. My two amazing sons.. But, I am a wanderer and, the siren song of the world calls me again. I must see it all, record the moments as they pass.

There will be more coffee shops and more stories. Laughter and tears and strange adventures. So much I don't know,  much more to discover.  Celebrate our beautiful planet. Reach out and touch rainbows in distant cities. Come, wander with me. Light up your soul.