Summer is but a distant memory sprinkled with tweeting birds and lazy days on luscious spreads of green green grass. I arrived in Portland at the height of a summer season which has, by all accounts, been exceptional, for which I count myself lucky. Nothing can stir your positive energies more than a good dose of sunshine in an area blessed with an amplitude of astounding natural beauty. I have seen Portland during one of its finer moments and it is indeed a site to behold. Having spent the majority of my youth in similar surroundings in one of the undiscovered corners of Wales, I have grown up to appreciate the importance of appreciating the bounty that mother nature has to offer in such a climate. True, both Oregon and Wales alike may not offer the kind of relentless heat that drives the herds straight to the nearest stretch of cool water in quite the same way as Spain or the Caribbean, but Sun is Sun wherever you are and it’s effect is universal.

This year’s Autumn in Oregon has been equally impressive. The sun held its own against the threatening clouds and morning mists continuing to provide a much needed dose of vitamin D to my slowly thickening bloodstream. The whole city was awash with colors of a vividness that I had not previously experienced in such magnitude. These colors, provided mainly by the massive presence of the Big Leaf Maple trees found all over the state, assaulted my eyes from every conceivable angle, in glorious flashes of green, brown, red, yellow and pink. From the floor beneath me, where the fallen leaves collected in enormous piles along the curbsides, to the swaying trees above my head, shedding the last of their foliage in bursting gusts of cool wind. It was a sight to behold, and one I look forward to seeing at the same time next year.

But alas, the last of the leaves have now fallen and the rain has set in with a stubbornness that announces it is here to stay. It’s been a while since I have had to endure a full season of unrelenting cold and drizzle since the last seven winters of my life have been in Barcelona, where the temperature rarely drops below 13C (59F for those of you still stuck in the illogical insanity of the imperial system). I must confess I’m not quite prepared. The urge to wander the streets with a carefree exploratory notion is diminishing with every drop of rain and I find myself tempted to hold up under a nice blanket with a good book and a glass of wine. I pretty sure that’s what I used to do before my jaunt into the land of eternal sun, so I will obey the instinct and see where it takes me. Of course this vibrant city continues to offer an almost indigestible amount of eclectic musical entertainment and culture, not to mention the bottomless barrels of truly top quality beer that will most certainly help me through the darker months. I’m also lucky enough to have a number of engaging projects on the go (one of which will be the continuation of this blog). Yes, the time has come to hucker down and see what new ideas emerge from within.