Downtown Portland

“Mall, Southwest Fifth Avenue,” said a woman’s calm voice over the intercom. “Doors to my left.”

“Puertas a mi izquierda,” followed a man’s baritone voice.

I prepared to get off the MAX light rail, Blue Line, and spend another day in the exciting and lively center of Portland, Oregon.

Downtown is a pleasure for the senses of small-town men — the ones who love large cities, that is. The urban landscape is not dull and boring; all the architecture is mighty, and the colors are bold. Neither is the landscape barren; far from it. Greenery abounds, and many lively people are about.

I don’t know what it’s like to drive here, but downtown is a pedestrian’s paradise, with ample room on the sidewalks for all to move freely. Downtown sounds like — is — a river, flowing along effortlessly. Many lives progress and intertwine smoothly here.

Because it just rained, the air is especially crisp. But neither the river — the city or the Willamette — nor the rain can wash away the pleasant liberalism, whether attitudinal or political, which is so dense in the air you can almost taste it as you inhale and can almost feel it come alive in you as it packs your lungs.

Downtown Portland feels so much like another home to me.