It’s been cooler than normal this past week in Scottsdale, but cooler in the sense that I wore a long sleeve shirt last night rather than I was scraping ice from my car windows. This was Christmas morning in Portland, a rare (barely) white Christmas. It was the overnight ice that was naughty not nice, coating the streets and causing problems for those going to visit family Christmas morning, or for a man wanting to walk his elderly dog.
Here in Portland we got our first white Christmas since 1937. I was alone on Christmas morning when I went out for a walk as the pup didn’t want to leave the house, not because of the light dusting of snow but rather the thin sheet of ice that covered the sidewalks and streets. We sometimes get ice from either freezing rain or frozen snow melt, or in this case a little of both, but it melted in a couple of days when warmer weather returned. Made a mess of things over the holidays though.
I used to think all city neighborhoods were a desert of brick and concrete and asphalt so I was surprised when we first started looking at neighborhoods in Portland to see so many tree-lined streets, such as Siskiyou Street here. I didn’t walk across Siskiyou much in the first seven years we lived here, just occasionally on trips to the store, as it is to our north and the train station for the light rail I take to work is to our south. In the last eight years however I’ve crossed thousands of times, as while it isn’t on the way to the train station, it is on the way to the dog park.
It doesn’t usually look like this though.