First Backyard Fire

5/30/11

Rain. Rain. Rain. Even moisture tolerant Oregonians are getting sick and tired of the rain this year. Apparently, we have had a record year of rain. Again. The weather gods’ displeasure is evident. The Columbia River is flooding low-lying areas in Portland, farmers are weeks behind planting schedule, and the lawn in the back is soggy in spots like a marsh. Along with all the rain comes the cold. In other words, it has not been a particularly warm and sunny spring, and it is really nearly summer. What gives?

Due to the prolonged rains, whenever there is the slightest break in the weather, people fling doors and windows open and stampede outside. They pour out of their homes like rats scatter off a sinking ship. Cows, busting down barn doors to get to the succulent spring grass, come to mind. Yesterday which was Memorial Day, when the afternoon sun peeked out, the neighborhood was abuzz with lawn mowers and shrieking restless kids. The hoop in the cul-de-sac kept many kids occupied for hours adding another sound effect, the continuous thud of bouncing basketballs, to the suburban neighborhood cacophony. After a long, dark, cooped up, and non-existent spring the human joy was almost palpable.

We enjoyed ourselves and the little sliver of spring-like weather granted us by having a fire in the backyard pit. Lisa and Kare came over for an impromptu BBQ dinner consisting of chicken, steak, pesto rice, pea vine shoots and arugula braised in garlic butter, asparagus, and scrumptious strawberries drizzled in dark chocolate and dipped in whipped cream. Sorry to stray from the main topic, but food porn is simply unavoidable for me. After dinner, wine glass in hand (an interesting and sparkling pinot noir from Argyle supplied by Lisa and Kare) and comfortably settled in a chair, I took great pleasure in the first fire of the year in the company of friends and family. The evening was mild, only requiring a sweatshirt by the roaring flames, and carried a promise of summer evenings yet to come. The smell of burning wood and the movement of dancing flames are timelessly seductive, hard to resist. Oblivious to the chiming of workday alarm clocks drawing closer and closer, we ended up lingering fireside into the night.