Every Portlander knows that when the cherry trees start to blossom spring has arrived. My beautiful rainy city, is still a little grey, but the city of roses has begun to bloom. It is a vanity of the city, its not like cherry trees grow naturally in asphalt. The city plants them, nurtures them, and every year they bring in new beginnings. This time of year is an intermission between the wet season and the dry hot season. It is a time where peace is made, and the weariness of rain begins to leave.
I can't wait for when my knee is healed. I will ride the max downtown one early Sunday morning, and run the districts. I will crisscross the bridges, that divide the city, and unite it at the same time. I will run the waterfront, and watch as the seagulls scatter. I will run from Chinatown, to the Pearl District, to the up and coming Alberta Arts district. I love how many flavors my city has. I love how clean it is, and hope that it will smell of cherry blossoms, and the sweetness of fresh rain.
This fantasy of mine is what keeps me going. Ever since I became a Portlander 5 years ago, I have wanted to be one of those strong sexy women I would see running, while I sat inside my car drinking my coffee. I don't know, I envied them, and the way in which they experienced the city. Soon I will be one of them.
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