After work I find myself drawn to a neighborhood several blocks away. The streets are winding and narrow with cement staircases leading up to mysterious places. Brick walls overflow with ivy and ferns. The homes are from another time, all beautiful in their own way. And the midst of it all, I lose myself. With every turn I expect to see something of another time (perhaps something like these). At certain points in my walk I know there will be a break in the homes where I will see for miles and this is where I look for a sea, but instead, there is Portland.