Xmas music at Starbucks Renon opens doors to another time and place, frozen avenues, memory sculptures, still in motion ... stepping into the feet that have already stepped into the drifts of snow ... cars crawling bravely along 99th Avenue, chains clanking against fenders, pressing the new-fallen shivering snowdust to shiny, gravel-speckled canals of ice ... crossing the tundra-like parking lot, vacant as a glacier but for one car proceeding sideways, breaklights blinking, hapless, fruitless, mittened hands held fast by a pointless steering wheel ... twinkling lights peering through the all encompassing frigid cloud of morning, falling slowly with the patient snow and winking across the wet black slate of cement that has been cleared in front of the Starbuck’s door ... and within, music, and cold new noses, diminuitive foot-shaped puddles leading from door to counter, hats and coat-shoulders decorated with a frosting that melts while the order is awaited, windows so completely fogged by the warmth within that one can longer see the winter without ... laughter, steam, handless gloves resting a moment by the cup and the plate, wreathed by red and green and checkered scarves ... and music which declares and repeats and repeats again the word of joy, contentment, expectation, peace. Christmas at Starbucks, Portland, Oregon, a long time ago, just yesterday, just now.
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