Recently my friend Becky had a few of us over for an early summer brunch. She lives in one of those Old Portland houses (a small-ish 1895 Victorian) with an endearing mix of historic character and contemporary characters, including two lovable cats named Shmoosh and Shine. The yard is a double-lot oasis overgrown with flowers and fig trees. A stone's throw from downtown but seemingly far away from it all.

Summer... what?

As I rode around in the rain yesterday, I found my mind occasionally wandering to this ship that was berthed next to the Steel Bridge the other day. I kept struggling to remember its name, beyond the word summer, with which it seemed to be taunting passersby. Somehow I just could not grab hold of it. Was it Summer Fantasy? Summer Paradise? Summer Promise? Did I forget to take my daily dose of Vitamin D or something?

Well, the unintentional black humor temporarily anchored in the City of Winter Doldrums was appreciated. By me and my camera, at least.

Oh, right... fortune.