Fall in a rain forrest

Halloween has just come and gone.
The sunny fall days have turned into rainy, cold days here in the Pacific North West. When I drive into school at 6:30 am, the sky is pitch black. When I get to the lit up bridge, I can finally see the beautiful curves of Portland reveal themselves as curtains of fog move and sway like a dramatic set. The city is placed among hills of Christmas trees with this giant river and many beautiful bridges acting as a frame as you come in from the east. The darkness and fog at that time make the city look like a grey-blue water color painting - or an old photograph that is slightly out of focus. It is heartbreakingly beautiful to me every single morning. And every single morning I am reminded of all the different types of people who have cultivated and built this place - from the rich people in the twinkly houses that scatter down the hills, to the working class people who built these bridges and have worked by them, on them and under them, to the native American Indians who were here with the bears and the salmon and all this luscious growth long before any Europeans found it.

Rainy days are for lovers.
They always feel especially lonely to me when I am without it.
Here, I find myself moving from one rainy day to the next like an invisible woman. Other than my one friend, Chris, and my sister (whom I see once a week if I'm lucky) - I am invisible here. It's a strange feeling for someone as extraverted as myself. I know there is a lesson to be learned - I'm just not sure what it is yet.

I'm not invisible anywhere else.
And, as if to prove my point, the ONE person I have met on my own in Portland - I met in the air (on a plane) above Los Angeles. ( my invisible cloak had not yet descended, you see)
Her name is Cindy. She is roughly my mother's age, and she has invited me out to hear her daughter sing tonight. Of course I am going. I am dying for a friend!

I miss my friends and family in L.A. And I miss my friends and family on the East Coast. So many of them are STILL without electricity after hurricane 'Sandy'. Some I have not heard one word from since the storm and have no assurance that they are ok. So I worry and hope from this far corner of the country.

There is nothing wrong with this beautiful rain forrest. No terrible storms here, no fires or drought. The fall days and nights are saturated with colors and nostalgic smells - smoke from fireplaces mixed with rain and flowers. There is no shortage of culture here, either. More art house cinemas, live theatre  and music venues, more amazing restaurants than I can relate to you. The only thing missing is all of the people that I love.