Hey there Seattle. Long time. Well. Over a month now. But I can't seem to get you out of my mind. I thought when I go away, everything will just become grey like the clouds and the rain. But the coffee from around the corner still smells strong. And the guitar, though now out of tune, manages to recall familiar notes that didn't sound so bad then. And the long walks to the Arboretum still make me happily tired. And the trees, filled with elusive birds seem to call me and tell me about the big old owl that sits there, oblivious to the crows who just wouldn't give up. And the Discovery Park. I never see it in the 'places to see in Seattle', but I have it mapped in my memory forever. And Eliot Bay bookshop. And Mollymoon icecream. And the summer days when the mountains suddenly appeared and surrounded the city. And the bar around the corner where I sat down with friends and made them wonder often what's this fascination with beer when I can drink barely a couple of pints. The thing is, Seattle, it's difficult to think of you as grey and rainy and cold and dark when the memories just shine and get brighter with every passing day. Because Seattle, I can hear you in my friends' voices and I can recall you in that crazy dreamer's visions. And those voices will never fade away. Years from now maybe I will struggle to walk all the streets in my mind but I will, I am sure, still retrace step for step to Ballet with Pat. And I will recall every word of Jim. And I will recall those debates with Kelly on politics and history and poetry. And I will always be a student to Andrew, the most amazing teacher I found. Seattle. You were kind to me. And to me you'll always be the sunniest place on this planet.
For Pat, Kelly, Jim and Andrew.