Sunday, February 25, 2007


He doesn't love me anymore, and it's breaking my heart.

Sunday, February 4, 2007

Phoenix

It was an incredible day here, balmy and gorgeous, and we decided to check out the Columbia Slough (http://www.columbiaslough.org/) because we are thinking about "adopting" a section of it. The awesome thing about adopting the Slough is that you get to go out once a month in a canoe or kayak, provided by the Columbia Slough Watershed Council, and you paddle your section and take notes on the changes you observe since the last time you were there.

The Slough has always been a magical place for me. When I was a kid it was just a 15-minute walk from my home... and I was always warned "Stay away from the Slough, don't touch the water or anything that's been in the water, it's filthy and it will make you sick". And at the time, it was true... it was vile, toxic water, polluted with human waste and other less savory things. I used to make the trek down to the Slough anyway, down the street, through the park, through the old part of the neighborhood, through the undeveloped part of the neighborhood, over the highway, across the train tracks, through the industrial strip, through the big chain-link gate, and finally clambering over the landfill to reach the tangled, murky, trash-filled water. I would sit on the city's discards and eat Chick-O-Sticks while watching sickly carp thrash in the warm, stagnant shallows.

Now, the Slough is vastly different. Through the efforts of a small and determined group of conservationists, my Dad among them, the Columbia Slough Watershed Council has gained members and support, and today the Slough is a far different place, with clean waters I don't have to be afraid to dabble my feet in, and frogs and ducks and healthy fish. The banks are lush with greenery instead of garbage, and in the summer droves of people come to paddle their kayaks, canoes, and inflatable rafts. There are two large lakes connected to the Slough, and although enclosed entirely within the industrial region of Portland, they are still oases of nature, screened from the massive Port activities by oaks and cottonwoods.

I am glad to see a place whose magic was evident to me as a child, even through a haze of pollution, restored to a modicum of its original natural beauty.