I enjoy Portland more as a fifty-year-old person than I ever did when I was young. Certainly, it’s changed in the last thirty years, and for the better, in my opinion, but it takes some age, distance, and time apart to make us appreciate what we have and see things more vividly.
I’ve worked most lunch hours in my career – many hours of the day straight through with only an afternoon coffee run to break up the labor – but when I’m “being good,” I force myself out for an hour. And like many things, when we just make the effort and the leap, we wonder why we don’t do it more often because we get so much enjoyment from it.
Had I not been working and on a New Year’s tact of “being good” and getting myself up and out for an hour mid-day, I would not have seen the beautiful wreaths on all the colorful doors of the brownstones on Park Row near the Victoria Mansion in Portland. They were unique and complemented each other. They made me feel homey and welcomed. They were festive and different than the plain green cookie-cutter wreaths with red velvet-like bows that are a dime a dozen on many front doors in the ‘burbs.
One wreath on a brown door had no red or maroon or holiday colors at all. It was made up of browns and greens – gorgeous, tasteful and so suited for its old fashioned door. Another wreath was a square, hung on an angle in a diamond shape. Another matched its earthen ware jar of winter boughs placed near it on the front stoop. The gold plates at the bottom of the doors and the artisan door handles and knockers beautifully accented the wreaths. The next day, I got myself out again for the noon hour, with camera in hand, and went back to Park Row.
Funny how one’s reasons for enjoying going to work may have absolutely nothing to do with the job.
