On Autumn

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Officers Row, Vancouver, WA | by Justin Augustine Lee | 9.2018

Like clockwork, but one that accepts fine-tuning every so often, autumn arrives to Portland, Oregon.

It’s a season that is marked less by the turned-page of a wall-calendar or the orientation of the earth to the sun as told by the stars, than by the final bursts of color the leaves give, asking that you acknowledge them one last time before bowing out after their closing act; or the crispness of the night, which works feverishly to regain control in its bout against the heat and the light of the summer—a season that will murmur just a few faint sounds until it becomes the past. All the land and its various parts which make up this orchestra—all the movements that mark this score—is busy in its preparations for rest, for darkness and for the cold and rain which will come. Continue reading

A Glance From My Father

cropped-20180904_201502.jpgIt seems that the majority of parents, mothers and fathers alike, succumb to the notion that our children will primarily or exclusively remember the major events in life: the big vacations to Disney Land, some grandiose birthday party or that ‘really amazing gift’ from Santa Claus that one Christmas. And because of this, we tend to focus on these kinds of things and events, putting in so much effort and time and money on the event that we can forget the little people that it was supposed to be for. And we forget how and what they remember. Continue reading