Floating above the eastern horizon, 60 miles distant, Mount Hood keeps watch over this city. As the day ages, the light from the sun going down in the west brings the crags and valleys of this mighty volcano into view.
It was sunny and warmish here, so we took a long afternoon walk, down by the wide Willamette River, where we saw bluebirds and a tiny black hummingbird with a bright red throat. In boats anchored offshore against the current, fishermen sought -- trout, chinook?
Large logs floated carelessly north, hazards for the boaters.
This is a city of big trees and lovely old houses. It's had one of the hottest real estate markets in the country the past few years, and recently was chosen as the best U.S. city in which to raise children. It's safe and friendly, a mostly informal place, it seems.
There as many beards here as in Berkeley, easily.
Most of Portland sits high above the river, up a steep incline. Near its downtown, OHSU (Oregon Health & Science University) covers a broad stretch of land. There are two large "aerial trams" running along cables from the riverbank up to university's hospitals.
Inside the tram, swinging high over the city, riders can see a panorama of the valley and the mountains beyond. You feel higher than you do riding in most ski lifts, and you are. Probably not the place for those afraid of heights.
This Saturday started quietly, with a soft fog coating the city. We had breakfast in a diner we like, (they sure serve big plates of hash browns up here) and then hung out with our sweet little nephew/grandson again. With his black hair and dark eyes, he is quite stunning.
The day ended with us gathered around his basket, watching him sleep. It may sound silly, but we all like to just gaze at him. It's amazing to see the perfection that we all start with, every feature arranged just so.
Baby James slept peacefully, opening his eyes now and again to see the smiling faces hovering over him, then settling again into slumber. I believe his parents have found a good place for him to grow up. This is a nice city to imagine living in.
People ask me what it is like to be a grandparent.
Beyond feeling old, I try to explain that there is a magnetic pull toward my grandson. It is a long drive here, especially with three young children in the car and no other adult to share the driving. I feel tense, my neck and shoulders hurt, as I navigate next to enormous truck-trailers, often three units per tractor. The hazards are immediate and all too obvious.
And the weather can turn violent in a flash. I remember the last time I drove from here to San Francisco, the same night James Kim and his family went missing after turning off from the route we were following. I couldn't forget about him as we traversed Grant's Pass.
I posted some of the official report about the family's ordeal on another of my many blogs. livejournal . I'll probably devote some space to summarizing this report in the future, because it is an instructive story for anyone who goes tgraveling in bad weather...
***
This is our third visit in three months, the second since baby James' birth. Driving here without a partner requires five days, four of which are spent largely on the road. Today was our one full day in Portland. By mid-day tomorrow, we'll be back on I-5 again, now heading south.
But it's worth every bit of it, just to see this little person enter the world and begin to develop. When I hold him and took into his tiny face, I know I am glimpsing a future that will occur without me, a time after I am gone. He should see the very late 21st century, while I am a product of the mid-20th century.
Maybe that is the main thing to say about how it feels to hold your tender grandson in your arms when he is six weeks old and you are over 3,000 weeks old is awe. Think about that -- I am 500 times as old as James is. So it feels like this: I have had my time, and now he will have his.
We will overlap for a while, and for me, that is a blessing. Later on, when he grows up, I hope he feels the same way about our overlap as I do. Gratitude.
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