Sunday, March 23, 2008
When the days of enforced idleness come to a head, and one doesn’t know what to do, when there are no companions and no agenda, no purpose, but a nagging need to be back for the lack of accomplishment, what is one to do? I got in the car.
With a coffee cup.
While driving to no place, I thought of Sauvie Island. I didn’t know what it was, just that it had been featured in a newspaper last fall, as a place no one ever goes except at Halloween, so I figured that no one would be there, and it would be different. Perhaps I could join their group of no one. Knowing only that it was a bit west of Portland, I set out. I didn’t exactly get lost on the way there, but I did not go the most direct route, I’m sure - however, eventually, beyone the port area and industrial area, I becan to come upon the sort of place one never goes to. No shops, no houses, nothing but road and river. And a bridge that said, Sauvie Island.
If you land on Sauvie Island, there is nothing there. A store, where minimal English is spoken, a map of the island, of which you can get a copy for a quarter. Parking permit required. And then, one can drive. Farms and fields and forests, oh my; Sauvie Island has nurseries and some houses which are too isolated to house anyone other than the wealthy in today’s market, but which look like old-fashioned run down farmhouses. There are constant signs to not hunt or not walk or not park along the road. The few pullouts are littered with “don’t do this” signs. I was not entirely sure where my permit allowed me to park. Finally, I just parked. It may have been illegal - the fine print was too much for me. Then I walked down to the river.
A tug boat was actually tugging! It pulled a barge, and another boat pushed the barge. If you look carefully, you can see the cable from the tugboat - I couldn’t get the whole setup in the photo, but it’s tugging! Along the beach the other item of interest was a snake - it really looked like a piece of old tire, but it had a yellow stripe, and when I stopped to look, it slid away. I walked for a while, and looked at the water, and enjoyed the space and relief from dark grey. This was light grey.
I walked some more. I had seen an eagle, a bald eagle, on my way to figure out how to park. I thought it had come from a place that might have swans. So, I tried to figure out where it had come from, and if they were really swans. Yes, they were swans. But, I’m getting jaded now, having lived in this area for going on three years, and swans were not as exciting as these other birds. At first, I thougth they were heron, but there were too many of them. And they didn’t stand still in the water - they walked around a bit among the stubble at the water’s edge. Also, they weren’t silent; they made a kind of crooning noise - a cross between a purr and a ribbit. They had me stymied for quite a while, but later I saw a sign that said they had sand hill cranes on the island, so I expect that’s what you see.
There were swans, many of them, “gliding, serene and cool, upon the heaven painted pool” (Serrallier). Every once in a while a few of them would take off. Once, a whole cloud of them returned, floating down like cherry blossoms on the water. I took a photo of that, but it doesn’t equal the experience, so you’ll have to use your imagination. However, you can see them flying. They’re so big, but when I’m this far away, they look as small as seagulls. Don’t be misled.
I walked for a while more, hoping that I would see the eagles. I saw Canada geese flapping their wings at each other, splashing and arguing. I saw a hawk, and I don’t know what kind it was, not a red-tail, but with a speckled belly and black tips at the ends of its wings. I saw a woodpecker! They have a swoopy flight, and this one had a cap, just like Woody Woodpecker, only I think it was not red but black. Colors are hard to make out on a grey day. I had little time to take a picture before it flew away again, and I can’t really identify it. Then, eventually, I did see the eagles. Two of them circled in the sky, floating and soaring. In one direction, I could see that the tails were white, in another I could see the white heads. They were far more splendid than the photographs, so I would just use the photograph for evidence.
The day, in fact, turned out to be a great haul. Out of enforced idleness came an adventure. I did have to travel for the enlightenment, but I came back much the happier, and possibly the wiser.
With a coffee cup.
While driving to no place, I thought of Sauvie Island. I didn’t know what it was, just that it had been featured in a newspaper last fall, as a place no one ever goes except at Halloween, so I figured that no one would be there, and it would be different. Perhaps I could join their group of no one. Knowing only that it was a bit west of Portland, I set out. I didn’t exactly get lost on the way there, but I did not go the most direct route, I’m sure - however, eventually, beyone the port area and industrial area, I becan to come upon the sort of place one never goes to. No shops, no houses, nothing but road and river. And a bridge that said, Sauvie Island.
If you land on Sauvie Island, there is nothing there. A store, where minimal English is spoken, a map of the island, of which you can get a copy for a quarter. Parking permit required. And then, one can drive. Farms and fields and forests, oh my; Sauvie Island has nurseries and some houses which are too isolated to house anyone other than the wealthy in today’s market, but which look like old-fashioned run down farmhouses. There are constant signs to not hunt or not walk or not park along the road. The few pullouts are littered with “don’t do this” signs. I was not entirely sure where my permit allowed me to park. Finally, I just parked. It may have been illegal - the fine print was too much for me. Then I walked down to the river.
A tug boat was actually tugging! It pulled a barge, and another boat pushed the barge. If you look carefully, you can see the cable from the tugboat - I couldn’t get the whole setup in the photo, but it’s tugging! Along the beach the other item of interest was a snake - it really looked like a piece of old tire, but it had a yellow stripe, and when I stopped to look, it slid away. I walked for a while, and looked at the water, and enjoyed the space and relief from dark grey. This was light grey.
I walked some more. I had seen an eagle, a bald eagle, on my way to figure out how to park. I thought it had come from a place that might have swans. So, I tried to figure out where it had come from, and if they were really swans. Yes, they were swans. But, I’m getting jaded now, having lived in this area for going on three years, and swans were not as exciting as these other birds. At first, I thougth they were heron, but there were too many of them. And they didn’t stand still in the water - they walked around a bit among the stubble at the water’s edge. Also, they weren’t silent; they made a kind of crooning noise - a cross between a purr and a ribbit. They had me stymied for quite a while, but later I saw a sign that said they had sand hill cranes on the island, so I expect that’s what you see.
There were swans, many of them, “gliding, serene and cool, upon the heaven painted pool” (Serrallier). Every once in a while a few of them would take off. Once, a whole cloud of them returned, floating down like cherry blossoms on the water. I took a photo of that, but it doesn’t equal the experience, so you’ll have to use your imagination. However, you can see them flying. They’re so big, but when I’m this far away, they look as small as seagulls. Don’t be misled.
I walked for a while more, hoping that I would see the eagles. I saw Canada geese flapping their wings at each other, splashing and arguing. I saw a hawk, and I don’t know what kind it was, not a red-tail, but with a speckled belly and black tips at the ends of its wings. I saw a woodpecker! They have a swoopy flight, and this one had a cap, just like Woody Woodpecker, only I think it was not red but black. Colors are hard to make out on a grey day. I had little time to take a picture before it flew away again, and I can’t really identify it. Then, eventually, I did see the eagles. Two of them circled in the sky, floating and soaring. In one direction, I could see that the tails were white, in another I could see the white heads. They were far more splendid than the photographs, so I would just use the photograph for evidence.
The day, in fact, turned out to be a great haul. Out of enforced idleness came an adventure. I did have to travel for the enlightenment, but I came back much the happier, and possibly the wiser.
