I am surprised. After we had our complimentary ounce or so of Château Pinchon Longueville at Liner & Elsen, shoved shoulder-to-shoulder in an inefficient crowd gaping forward for more, more, and apparently attended by the King (in a complex waistcoated suit and wearing, I swear to god, medals), we returned home and I decided to go for a run. I am not sure why; I’d been tired all day and walked around the waterfront loop (about 3 miles) over lunch.

But, lo, I was sailing lightly the whole time, as well-rested and comfortable as anything, and it was just at the exact time when the black-wet streets were just beginning to freeze. I swear I could almost hear and see the crystallization, and I had to mince to keep from sprawling. But it was so pretty–the ice crystals flashing back streetlights at me and the heavy, clear quiet. It’s a beautiful night, but treacherous. I had to flail to keep upright on the black ice of Sunnyside School’s playground.

It’s a beautiful night, Portlanders. Just be careful out there.