September 11-15, 2016
Everyone tells you that you have to go to Portland. It is a scruffy, quirky, lively town. The kids got a quick lesson in fashion. Whether you are talking tops or bottoms, dress up, dress down or business casual...fishnets are the way to go. And don't forget your wig.
We paid our Portland tax (the hour long wait in the Voodoo Doughnut line) and stopped in to check out the infamous Burnside skatepark. While Tom skated, the kids and I went to Mother's restaurant to do our homework and eat some crazy good macaroni and cheese. Note to self...if I ever decide to go into the restaurant business, I'm going to dub it "Mother's Restaurant". New Orlean's best restaurant is also called Mother's and so I'm noticing a trend. We trust our mothers! As we SHOULD ya'll!
After a good day doing all the Portlandian things, Tom pulled an unforgettable surprise out of his sleeve. Apparently, every fall, Vaux Swifts migrate south for the winter and pass through Portland. Each September, one particular population of them take up residence in the chimney of the Chapman Elementary School. About an hour before sunset, the townspeople come out in the thousands to sit on the lawn and watch them return to the roost. For nearly an entire month, it is a nightly ritual for both the swifts and the locals. The children drag their cardboard boxes to the top of the hill on the school lawn and spend the entire evening sledding. Meanwhile, those too vain to get the grass stains on their jeans keep their eyes on the gathering swifts in the sky. You can feel the anticipation of the crowds as the birds begin circling the chimney and then suddenly, at some mysterious prompt, begin funneling into the small chimney opening. And I do mean funneling. It is like watching an Audubon tornado. When the final swift spirals down into the chimney, the entire school yard cheers.
It is such a breathtaking nightly ritual and I am so grateful that we were able to participate. As the crowd packs up their picnics, space opens up on the lawn and the big kids come out to play. The hill, formerly reserved for the little ones, is taken over by the adults. We are all worn out after only a few treks up the hill. We don't know how the children climbed up and down that hill all night long. Darkness finally settles over the yard and I'm left pondering how the school kids do it the next morning. How can they learn the differences between nouns and verbs, memorize all those facts, work through the long division? How can they possibly do all that and not dream, amazed at the thousands of wings behind the bricks in the wall?
