gentle day

In the wake of bonfires, barbecues, beer, bratwurst and sauerkraut, motorcycle rides, exploding things, we wake up reluctantly and groggy. The still overcast air feels a little more like looming winter; that we should stoke up the woodstove and warm the couch cushions instead of jumping up and out of doors into the woods to cleanse the gunpowdery residue from our lungs.

Indeed, a few false starts are made in the pursuit of hiking trails and mountain air. A town trip is decided upon. Coffee is sipped while the Le Tour De France dances across the periphery of our vision. Should we see the R. Crumb exhibit at the museum? No, closed on Mondays. Japanese Gardens? We haven't been there in a while. But do we want to share the experience with half of Portland and a good chunk of Minneapolis, Austin, L.A., Phoenix, Athens, Georgia?

GPS helps us find the Marquam Nature Park. There's a smooth, weekend hangover kind of trail. We walk. It climbs a little, and we're above Portland and on a green expanse of park. The clouds start to break up and the reluctant sun starts to warm the grass.

Being lazy and indecisive has made us hungry. The trail winds down in the direction of town, the direction of the river, and we sit on a patio with our final beer and final greasy spoon eats before the weekend is over.

Today is beautiful and sunny, and I'm out to my studio to throw open the windows and get back to work.