For twenty years and counting the front porch of 812 has played a most significant role. It has welcomed friends and family as it guides them up the steps to witness big bear hugs, emotional hellos, and tearful goodbyes. It has had a front row seat to rainstorms, young late night summer romance, and attempted parallel parking jobs. It has provided a seat for dogs, cats, and a little blonde girl who have all at one point sat on its steps anxiously waiting mom and dad's return.
For nearly fifteen of those years the late Wilson Dog pranced down its slick brick steps in rain and shine to retrieve the morning paper, and today the mailman skips the last two as he reaches for the mail slot to deliver the latest National Geographic or Cowboys and Indians, or take a letter on its next thrill. It has staged what could probably be award-winning dramas, comedies, and tragedies, and it has overheard countless energetic obscenities that follow the realization that one is indeed locked out of the house. It has cooked in the summer sun, and frozen slippery in the deepest of winter nights. It has been squashed by clunky work boots, caked by muddy garden clogs, poked by sophisticated stiletto heels, and drowned in puddle jumping galoshes. It has been tripped on, run over, and tickled by the lawn mower. Even though the nature around it has grown, altered, and disappeared, it carries on strong with mom and dad as it acts as my personal launch pad and gateway to adventure.
 |
| Gearhart Beach |
 |
| The City of Portland |
 |
| Walla Walla Wheat Fields |
Since birth 812 has roughened up my city slickness and worn some serious country into this girl by seeing me off to the rugged Oregon Coast and the rolling fields of wheat in the Walla Walla valley. It showed me the wonders of Europe and threw me into the whirlwind of Boston, and now, come February second, this steady launch pad is sending me on my biggest traveling adventure yet: six months of learning in the Paris of South America, Buenos Aires, Argentina.
No comments:
Post a Comment