A La Calle - Ahora at least mehn...

Two weeks into the Portland experiment and my hypothesis of awesomeness continues. No longer crashing with my bro Ryan's ex girl, I sit beneath the stars upon a reclined chair of finished oak at Guy and Jen's house, a couple met online through couchsurfing.com, a community of wanderers using karma to keep one another's trips through this world flowing. Their dog's name, a wiry Wishbone-esque doggy dog, is "Grr". Word. To my right rests a garden bristling with staked and vined tomatoes as upright comrades at attention beside other herbs cultivated, to the left my wet, perhaps about dry, clothes hang upon lines similar to the rather retro clothes-line rack curiously in the attic of my Father's childhood house and former Worcester crash pad, as a result of an earlier laundry situation. A few feet farther still three chickens roost, awaiting the dawn, prepared to produce breakfast. In Portland it is legal to have up to three chickens on a private residence without a permit. Conscious of green, I release a breath ignite and inhale; it stimulates. Appreciating the stars I laugh, "I hadn't ever thought to consider that it was space that was moving"; a line I roughly recall from the new Star Trek flick, enjoyable; and recognize that while progressing within, it is at times necessary to sit back, chillax, and let the movement go on without. Rock and Roll MJW