Portland Story

I'm feeling sappy...bear with me please...

Slowly...I'm Loving It

I moved to Portland in November of 2003. Besides when I was a kid and lived in Poland, I had not lived outside of California. I moved to Portland for a job. A very good job. It took some getting used to, what with the lack of immediate access to the ocean, the rain, and the just-in-time snowstorm that hit 2 months after I arrived. But something inside of me started to change as time passed on. Spring arrived and I found myself being so elated at seeing all the tulips and iris. I bought a house in Westmoreland and found myself feeling more and more at home. Then came the true test. I flew back to San Diego to visit friends for a few days. I had lived in Portland for less than one year and was sure that San Diego would be calling back to me, beckoning me to return forever. I had visions of being dragged back onto the plane by my husband. "You have to go back. We have a mortgage to pay," he would say. But, alas, that was not the case.

The first thing that struck me when landing in San Diego was the lack of green trees. What was this odd feeling? I missed the trees? How could this be? There was a vast ocean in front of me with boats and surfers and children frolicking in the sun. But there were no lush trees. The lack of vegetation on the side of the freeway struck me next. Suddenly all the differences were hitting me like a brick. After some fun-filled days with friends, I found myself so excited to go home to Portland. I could not wait to be in my 1922 home surrounded by green trees and newly-sprouting flowers. I never imagined I would love it so much anywhere outside of California. Turns out, I may stay awhile.