weathering the journey

Yesterday was a perfect morning.

48 degrees. Overcast. With a very soft drizzle. The kind of morning that tells me to get on with my journey.

I had spent the night at an airport hotel in Portland on Saturday. That was a bit unusual for my trips north. Usually, I can catch a flight from Los Angeles to Seattle to hop on a commuter to Redmond, Oregon, and be done with flying in one day.

But this is a holiday week. The commuter from Seattle was full. So, I decided to overnight in Portland.

It turned out to be a good choice. The airport hotels in Seattle are isolated. Portland has made an effort to develop the area around its airport hotels to offer a bit of diversion for over-nighting passengers.

My usual hotel fronts onto a large shopping mall that is perfectly-designed for my morning walks. I was able to complete my steps just in time to catch the shuttle to the Portland airport for the last leg of my flight.

This week is one of the busiest periods of travel in The States, and the airport bore witness to what would otherwise be a bit of trivia. There were enough children crowding the corridors to populate ten road companies of Annie and The Sound of Music. All of them filled with sugar and joy. And, fortunately, almost none of my flight.

I have always had an irrational affection for prop planes. That may be because the first aircraft I flew during Air Force flight training was a Cessna 150. Whatever the reason, I always look forward to the half-hour flight from Portland to Redmond on one of Horizon's Bombadier Q400 fleet.

It is like riding in a sports car, a rather large sports car, where passengers can feel every bump in the sky. We are one with our environment.

The lady sitting next to me was not quite as enthusiastic. With every air pocket drop, she would cross herself. I don't think she once looked out the window to see Oregon transition from Willamette Valley green to central Oregon stark.

I am now ensconced in my brother's house on one of the gravel shelves above Prineville -- enjoying the cocoon effect of their new house. Its succor was well-appreciated when I looked out this window this morning. It was not 48 degrees. It was not drizzling. But we did have an overcast sky.

This is what greeted me.

The day I left Mexico, a Canadian acquaintance told me an Arctic front was headed to Oregon. He was correct. Even though this morning hardly had a dusting a snow, there is a winter storm watch for the next three days I am here.

I did not move to Mexico because of the weather, and I did not come north because of the weather. I came to spend time with my family.

The snow is not going to change that.