Sweet rose petals falling on the inexpensive sidewalks of NW 20th and cats on night prowls would stop to purr at your feet when you walked back after a show. There was always someone somewhere who had just taken a piss and spilled a beer, so both smells were in perfectly equal parts when crossing specific sections of W Burnside. Nobody bothered me much, but I still walked quickly. I miss cold grey fall mornings where I could not keep enough pot or coffee or unread books in my apartment.
I have children, a husband, and a house, and live in the high desert, but those moments in Portland I really do miss so much. 💜
