If Pioneer Square is Portland's living room, the Oregon Zoo amphitheater is its backyard. And on pretty nearly perfect summer nights like Friday's, the amphitheater attracts Portland residents to the grass like bees to honey. "We got here at three o'clock and there was already a line!" reported one concert-goer. When I arrived at half past six, I was lucky enough to lay claim to a narrow strip of green on the upper lawn way back by the elephant house. The bustle and hum around me make me feel part of a whole even as I sat alone on my frayed plaid blanket. That's the beauty of being snuggled up to your neighbors – you don't have any choice but to get to know them a bit, especially in those slow moments before the music starts. Perhaps in part due to the Oregon Brewers Festival that was in full swing on the waterfront (from which I'd bet more than a handful of folks had made their way), a sun-baked drowsiness hung in the air. People relaxed into the cooling evening, dined on picnic accoutrements and sugary, sagging elephant ears, and quaffed dripping wet cups of ice-cold beer. Parents chatted, pre-teens played games on their cell phones, and the masses of little kids changed into their pj's as the sun set. Airplanes and swallows darted across the cloudless sky and all was right with the world.
Down on the stage, a zoo representative announced the first act: birds of prey. From platform cages scattered about the grounds, birds were introduced and flown one-by-one to the stage; the grand finale being Chinook the bald eagle who took an arching flight path over my nosebleed section before swooping over the masses and on down to collect his treat. The second act, or first musical act, was David Ryan Harris, an acoustic guitar playing Jack Johnson want-to-be who played for too long and filled the spaces between songs with drab humor. To his benefit, his music was fairly non-intrusive and allowed conversations to continue much to the enjoyment of those around me. And "Pretty Girl", a song written for his wife, did get a few dads a-bopping their babies and older couples nuzzling a little closer.
Finally, when it was cool enough to pull my jacket out of my bag and put it on, the Indigo Girls came on-stage to mellow cheers. Their performance echoed the vibe of Portland and the evening in dress, banter, lyrics and harmony. Their sound was sun-baked, layered and unassumingly wise. Mixing vocals with instruments, including at one point an accordion, the Indigo Girls succeeded in getting the crowd to sing along, setting loose favorite lyrics up into the darkening sky. And they were genuinely gracious in their "Thanks y'alls," keeping time and talk between songs to a minimum. I went away from the show calm like after an hour yoga practice, satisfied with the mix of new and old, and happy for the chance to spend an evening in my backyard with fellow Portlanders.
