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Last Thursday morning around 9, I was here:

Last Thursday night around 9, I was here:

Same day, same coast, and it could be the same scene, but the trees give it away.

I had a whirlwind weekend rendezvous with the glorious trees in Portland.  This is the first tree I developed a schoolgirl crush on, I took this photo just a few blocks from our hotel in one of the plentiful downtown parks that pepper the city.

That's a cute tree, so very tall and stately. It retained its charm for me even after I became  half blind with tree love for its myriad cousins in Washington Park.

These guys were less about statuesque and more about lush. Lush, lush, lusciously lush.

I was one with the green, right down to my soggy little so-cal toes in their silly sandals, which I quickly ensconced in newly purchased tights and Wellies.

Sure, I maintained a soft spot for my tall, dark and handsome big boys. 

So stately and studly and solitary

I loved how the light played on the singletons, tickling the flaura.

But my favorite were the spots where all that green filled up my senses, surrounding and slaying me.

And how freaking adorable is that path? Don't you just want to skip?

A meadow of wildflowers?! Don't you want to just frolic?

Come on.

Really?

Portland is my green boyfriend.

I was so smitten, so satiated.

Everywhere I looked, I was filled up with green.

Out the windows

Through the windows

In the windows

Everywhere.

My trip was so short, I hardly had time to explore a teeny tidbit of what Portland has got going on. As I flew home on Sunday, I looked out one more window

Oh, Portland.