Slice Of Life

October, 2008

It is the end of October in Portland, Oregon. Weather is sunny and cool; sky is clear and it smells like fall.Isn’t it funny, how sometimes we even don’t know ourselves how much we miss something until we are confronted with it? I had no idea that I missed Fall so much until I ended up at Park Avenue, downtown Portland.

It’s my first trip outside California and I have no idea what to expect. I know that it is supposed to be in middle 60's and sunny up in Oregon, but that’s about it.I start up my morning wakening up to an amazing view over downtown Portland, the surrounding hills and Mount Hood with a bright blue sky in the background. I probably spend about 30 minutes curled up in a comfortable chair in front of a huge window sipping on a single cup of coffee before I go out.

I don’t have a specific schedule so I take it easy and wander around in a direction of the museum. I walk by department stores, restaurants, hotels; I hear streetcar noise and I have to wait for a green light to cross a street. I enjoy all of it for I love being in a city. I grew up in a major city in Russia and I am used to everything that comes with it: crowds of people on the streets; noise, so loud that sometimes it’s difficult to hear a person next to you talking; trash that didn’t make it to a can; delicious smells of freshly baked pastries and coffee. To me, these sounds put together make up a kind of music I know as “a city symphony”. Every city has it’s own and I like the one of Portland a lot.

I constantly look around and, as a matter of habit, read names of streets I cross and places I see. One makes me stop at the spot. “Cacao. Drink Chocolate”. Immediately, I open a coffee shop door to find out what exactly it means and just a minute later, I sit down at a high bar-stool in front of a window holding a tiny cup of hot chocolate in my cold hands. I look out at the street where I was just a moment ago and make the first sip. The chocolate is hot, thick, rich, spicy and a little bit bitter. I haven’t tasted it for so long and this one is so different from the last one I had, which I happened to enjoy on a late, cold night in the end of Fall in Saint Petersburg years ago, when my friend and I decided to stop for a cup of hot chocolate at a coffee shop on Nevskiy Prospect. I remember that it was the only thing in the whole world that we wanted for we’ve got everything else. We just saw a movie and we absolutely loved it; we were dizzy with joy and happiness; life seemed so bright and everything was possible. The only one thing we wanted was hot chocolate to make it all perfect. I think about it as I drink the gooey delight and with every sip those feelings of joy are coming back and I see myself turning into that happy me back from years ago. A thin line between reality and dreaming, now and then gets blurry and it finally disappears.

After a while, I am back outside. I walk down a street and end up at Park Avenue, which is one city block wide and ten city blocks long park. As soon as I see yellow, orange, red and green colored trees, something inside me clicks and I see myself as a three-year-old girl, walking in Tavricheskiy Park in Leningrad with my grandparents. How much of a memory does a three-year-old have? Not much. Experience? Virtually none; but somehow three-year-olds know the truth; somehow they have faith; somehow they believe in themselves and in everybody else and this is exactly how I feel right now, standing in the middle of a walkway here, at Park Avenue. All those things that I worried about so much just some hours ago seem to be so small and unimportant; an exciting dialog between me and all people I knew or used to know, which was going on in my head for years, actually, gets quiet and finally stops; all those events of long ego, which still get me concerned, go away and my mind is left clear and silent and the only things that are important are the ones I see right now and they are simple and beautiful and I am so happy that they just ARE.

I look around and I see piles of leaves; I look up and I see sunlight through black branches of trees dressed up in gold; I see people walking, children playing, dogs running. I feel like a source of some sort of vibrant energy got unlocked inside me. It fills me up and wipes off all past memories, talks, experiences, everything that makes up the today's me and leaves behind the true me, the one who has so much to do with this three-year-old girl: trustful, open and receptive, who believes that absolutely everything is good and possible.

I pick up a huge leaf and look at it. It’s bright yellow with spots of red and brown here and there. This leaf is like an old friend I haven’t seen for years; whom I missed so much and whom I am so happy to see. And I am going to take him home with me never to part again. My heart is dancing as I walk down the alley picking up more leaves. I look for big and colorful, and there are plenty of them here. I feel like I cannot get enough of this bright yellow beauty. I end up with a big bouquet. I bring it close to my face and take a deep breath. The scent is so fresh, it’s incredible! It smells like earth and grass and Fall and …roses. Roses? Something is off. I take another breath. Yes, it’s definitely roses. A three-year-old is gone and it’s up-to-date version of me doing her best to figure out what is going on. My mind is hectically looking for an answer; it’s confused. “Hey, roses don’t’ bloom in the Fall; roses and Fall don’t go together. They simply don’t. It’s impossible because it’s the end of October and …” I look aside and I see rose bushes in bloom. Pale pink and bright red bushes and there are probably a hundred of them! Their scent fills up the air and it mixes with the scent of Fall and leaves and earth. This is the most amazing thing to me because two things that I believe excludes one another are actually right here in front of my eyes and coexist in perfect harmony.

As I walk away, holding the precious leaves close to my heart, I think that just maybe there are a lot of things in my life that I chose to put a label on that they don’t belong together but they actually do and it’s only up to me to recognize it?