We were walking down the street, and ahead of us was a small city park.
The first thing that seemed wonderful was that it’s below street level. You walk up, and you can see the whole park with its paths, pond, and benches. You immediately feel a desire to go in and instantly know what you want to look at here.
The pond with wooden platform-walkways initially seemed the most surprising, and it was so pleasant to walk on them and observe the blooming water lilies.
Once I'd walked around the park, taken a look, I photographed those very wooden platform-walkways and the park from the other side.
This is Tanner Springs Park, the "tanner's spring" park.
Read the history of the park's origins on this site (please read it!), and you’ll understand why the park is the way it is. To keep you from getting bored, I'll include photos.
Historically, this area was part of nearly two million acres of prairies and wetlands in the Willamette River Valley. A stream flowed through this area, later named Tanner Creek, which emptied into a shallow body of water called Couch Lake.
Tanner Creek was named after a tannery built along the creek in 1845 by Daniel H. Lonsdale, one of Portland's early settlers and founders. Couch Lake was named after Captain John H. Couch, who was also one of the early settlers and founders of the city, arriving here in 1839 and later owning most of the land in the area. (He received the land as a gift! Free! It was possible back then... John Couch built his house on the western shore of the lake.)
In the 1880s, the city filled the lake and wetlands to make way for development, which later turned into a rail yard and industrial area in the early 1900s. Industrial and railroad dominance continued for most of the 20th century, only beginning to decline in the 1950s when transportation shifted from rail to road. This led to the sale of abandoned railway parcels and paved the way for the modern urban renewal of the district, which began in the 1980s.
City planners in the 1990s decided that the abandoned industrial area should be redeveloped for mixed use. Residential high-rises went up, and shops and cafes opened... That's how the Pearl District emerged.
Four parks (or "pocket parks" as they are called online) were planned, but only three were built, each with very different concepts. Remember, I asked you to read the history? This is why.
The park's entire design is a tribute to the landscape that once existed on this very spot. It’s like a small "window into the past", a preserved island for the future.
The park practically recreates that original stream, complete with its natural habitat and native plants. (Only in miniature; the real creek flows through a pipe beneath the streets.)
There are even two streams flowing on either side of the path.
At first, I thought these were "streams" flowing in a closed circuit, replenished from the city water supply system.
But it turns out the park is a self-contained, sustainable stormwater management system: rainwater that falls on the park grounds and adjacent streets is collected, filtered by plants and gravel, and then treated with UV light in an underground cistern. The purified water is then recycled, flowing out from the "spring" at the top of the park.
(It's just a shame they didn't visually design this spot to imitate a real spring, so it wouldn't look like a manhole.)
But the very idea of using rainwater for the park is a wonderful solution, an example of ecological urban design.
Even the artistic stracture of a giant leaf is not only a place to sit and wait out the rain but it also has an important purpose: water from its roof flows into the pond—and recycles again.
I walked along the path and didn't hear the hum of cars or the clang of streetcars; all I heard was the calming gurgle of the stream flowing downhill...
The park is designed as a quiet place amidst a noisy, constantly moving city. The design team created an oasis where you can take a break from the urban hustle. There are so many places to sit here.
Or just sit near a flowerbed...
And that flowerbed has wild strawberries growing in it!
Or sit and watch the water, or sit and have a snack, or sit and read a book...
There are no bright colors here; everything is visually muted and calming. The internet states that the garden contains no exotic plants; all the plants in this garden are from the Willamette Valley.
At first, I thought the garden nasturtium was planted here by someone who didn't know the park's concept, but I was wrong! It turns out that nasturtium (the common garden nasturtium, so loved by my grandmother and then by me) is native to Central and South America. It was brought to Europe by Spanish conquistadors in the 16th–17th centuries and from there made its way to North America, where it has been cultivated in the US since the mid-1700s. (And I thought all nasturtiums came from my grandmother's little garden under the windows!)
The park is planted with tall native grasses. I encountered new names for the first time, like wapato and camas. With some effort, I found the translation: wapato turned out to be broadleaf arrowhead, and camas remained camas. (For those interested, there's a footnote after the story.)
The trees in the garden, such as Oregon oak, red alder, and bigleaf maple, were planted as mature trees, rescued from other areas of urban development.
Some locals observe the birds and animals that appear in the park and post information online.
On my first visit, I only saw two ducks who felt more at home here than the people walking by.
The ducks were sitting on the walkways, completely unafraid of anyone, paying no attention to passersby.
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I walked literally two steps from them, and they calmly allowed me to photograph them.
And on my second visit, I saw several ducks and drakes. Feast your eyes on them!
From the photo, you wouldn't say you're in a tiny city park.
As of February 2025, as noted on the iNaturalist website, the park has been visited by an osprey, a great egret (my favorite), a Pacific forktail, a vivid dancer, a mallard, a fiery skimmer, and a song sparrow. Various butterflies and dragonflies have also been seen here, as well as ducks and turtles. This means the water is clean, and the residents are friendly...
For some reason, someone online found... I don't know how to describe it... the fence? the barrier?... to be threatening, causing a feeling of danger in people passing by on the street.
Someone wrote that as they walked past, they felt this structure would fall on them.
However, these railroad tracks set in a wave pattern filled me with complete delight!
Online, they are called the "art wall", an art installation. The "wall" is made of 368 reclaimed rail tracks, some dating back to 1898.
Scattered among them are 99 fragments of fused blue glass with hand-painted images of insects and amphibians that likely inhabited this site.
At first, I didn't understand what these inserts were or why they were there, but finding myself in the same spot as the sun was setting, I saw this!
The blue glass, clamped within powerful pieces of iron, glowed and sparkled, reflecting the sky and creating such a joyful mood!
The rails seem to shield the park from noise, separating it from the city.
They are a reminder of the site's industrial past. Besides, not everything needs to be thrown away (or melted down). It would be desirable to use what people once made, just in a different way, if possible. And this is a magnificent, extraordinary example of that use, not a threat at all, as someone perceived it. And that person, I think, didn't read the history of the place, which you don't even have to go online for; it's briefly presented on a information board at the park's entrance.
From that information board, I learned something that wasn't online: the paths in the park are made of ballast from the ships that came here for wheat.
It's not just a park but a small history lesson about the city, in addition to being a very pleasant place for quiet relaxation...
***
I came here a second time, without my daughter, just to walk around and check all three "pocket parks" that were successfully built in this "Pearl District."
All three have different concepts and different goals. The first, The Fields Park, is for active recreation: you can come here with children, let them run around, and play ball with them.
Or have a picnic here. (The park is currently under renovation).
The second, Jamison Square, honestly seemed less successful in its design to me, even though the most wonderful photos online are of this park, and they say it's a "famous small park in the Pearl District with a popular play and water play area resembling a tidal pool."
The thing is, this park has a fountain system where water, flowing out of each stone, creates a small waterfall and floods the area at the base, where children frolic in the summer. When I walked past—it was autumn, cold, and the fountains weren't working—I thought: how many days a year will you enjoy that cheerful image of happy children? How many warm, sunny days are there here? Two or three months in the summer? And without those fountains, the park is like any other, without its own distinct character, if you can say that.
It's good that all three parks are so different, because some people need roses and benches, some need a lawn to run on, and some want to read a book by a pond. Since I am a bookish person, it seemed to me that, of all three parks, Tanner Springs Park is the most pleasant and the most unusual.
Unfortunately, I won't have the opportunity to come here with friends to sit and talk, so I'm writing this—it's the only way to share. And when you go for a walk in a park near your home, looking at a tree, a flower, the sky, and the friends who are with you, maybe you'll remember me, take your own photos, and send them to me!
Until next time!
P.S.
1. Tanner Springs Park is a quiet, green space designed by Atelier Dreiseitl and GreenWorks PC.
2. I encountered new words: camas, wapato, and ipe. Let's expand our vocabulary!
Ipe (pronounced ee-pay) is a very dense, dark exotic hardwood sourced from the Handroanthus tree, also known as the trumpet tree, which grows in the tropical regions of Central and South America. Also called Brazilian walnut, it is exceptionally durable, naturally resistant to rot and insects, and popular for outdoor applications such as decks and docks. The walkways in the park are built from ipe.
The plants Wapato and Camas are native plants of the Pacific Northwest, including Portland, Oregon, that have great cultural and historical significance, especially for Indigenous peoples.
Camas (Latin: Camassia or Camassia quamash). This is a bulbous perennial plant of the Asparagaceae family (it was previously classified under the Lily family). It is widespread in prairies and wet meadows. It has long, narrow, grass-like leaves and tall flower stalks with beautiful inflorescences, usually bright blue or violet-blue, which bloom in the spring. The edible bulb of Camas was one of the most important staple foods for many Indigenous tribes of the Pacific Northwest. The bulbs were traditionally slow-baked in earth ovens to convert the inulin they contain into digestible carbohydrates. Important: There is also a very poisonous "Death Camas" (Toxicoscordion venenosum), which is visually similar to edible camas, so identification requires specialized knowledge. They are attractive flowers; I've seen them in local front yards, and the bulbs can be purchased online.
Wapato (Common Arrowhead, duck potato. Latin: Sagittaria latifolia.) This is an aquatic or riparian plant, a species of Arrowhead. It has characteristic arrow-shaped leaves (hence the genus name Sagittaria), and it grows in marshes, ponds, and backwaters. Wapato produces edible tubers that resemble potatoes, which were also an important food source and trade item for Indigenous peoples (especially the Chinook and Kalapuya tribes in the Willamette Valley, where Portland is located). The tubers were traditionally gathered by feeling for them with the feet in the water and then throwing them to the surface. Currently, it cannot be gathered on federal lands, as the plant is protected by law
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