Yesterday was the first of of nine that our air quality in Portland, Oregon fell from “hazardous” to “good,” and I could resume running. Not only had I not run in all of that time, but I hadn’t been outdoors except for brief moments on our deck. It was delightful, running along the Willamette River; like getting re-acquainted with an old friend.
On the westside, through Waterfront Park, I found a dead crow in the grass. He’d been there awhile-flies gathered. Crows are a spirit animal for me-I said a prayer for him.
One of the oak trees had split off a very large branch. Yellow tape warned people to stay away from the tree. Nearby, a squirrel was busy burying acorns for the winter.