I am often astonished when I think about the variety of experiences in my daily life. So I thought this week, instead of writing depressing warnings about losing our soul as a nation, I’ll talk about what happens around here or in my wanderings in general. There is always something surprising.

Let’s start with revisiting a standing date I’ve described before: once a week I walk at Oaks Bottom with a dear friend and wizard of technical gadgets – which comes in handy as you will see when the story unfolds.

As I described Oaks Bottom before – it is a wildlife sanctuary located between a small amusement part and a strangely decorated crematorium.

To get from one to the other you have to pass through a dark tunnel – a satisfyingly cheesy metaphor for any old Tuesday morning.

You walk through meadows,

then wooded paths, along a lake that sports diverse wildlife depending on the time of year and amount of water.

Herons congregate here, owls nest here, young explorers abound,

 

and the homeless camp out here, occasionally rounded up by the authorities followed by volunteer garbage collectors.

And of course, selfie-takers – can’t avoid them, even in the woods, standing on unsafe surfaces.

 

Once you come across the lake you walk back on a bike path that parallels train tracks. In the winter Santa Claus is known to run that track with a steam engine decorated with reindeer and filled with the squealing short set. Not being run over by bikes poses a kind of challenge for people and dogs alike, but the views are worth it: the Willamette river can be glimpsed through the trees, all manner of nautical traffic, and the misty clouds over the West hills.

This week the hike was punctuated by cries for help. A disoriented, disheveled, bend-over man who could barely walk implored us to call 911. He had lost his way in the woods, fallen, lost his glasses and, by the wet looks of his clothes and the laceration on his face, had spent the night on the ground. He was on the other side of a fence and another hiker joined us to stabilize him. My cell promptly had no connection, but the hiker reached the police. My friend, thinking on her feet, knew how to drop a pin on our location on her phone, and so when the two of us walked the mile or so to meet the ambulance people at the street access, she could direct them where to go, wheeled stretcher and all. I hope it worked out for the guy.

I know for myself, that I was ashamed for my hesitation when first approaching him: the idea it might be some raving drug addict or some such came to mind way too fast. Not sure I would have stopped if I had been on my own. More proof, if needed, of how our humanity is affected by issues of social injustice.

My archives are full of photographs of this place. But I thought it would be a nice challenge to document the narrative with photos taken on just one visit there, last Saturday.