This week’s count: 534
I’m not quite sure the point of this exercise other than to make myself feel badly for not writing more. I’m hoping public shaming* will force me to make more time to write.**
*As if anyone reads this.
**Yes, I’m going to put the blame not on me but the rest of my life. I don’t want to feel too badly about it.
Driving amid four lanes of traffic, I am struck by my hometown. I struggle a bit with using the word ‘hometown’. It means so little. I was born one place, have lived in a few others. Where I am at is what I consider my ‘hometown’. It is the town where my home, my family, and my life are. My current hometown feels so foreign. Seattle overwhelms me. It is a simpler place to live than, say, Philadelphia but somehow more complicated. (But those contrasts are not for this post.)
I was driving South on 15th Avenue on my way home from picking up Claire from preschool - an amazing thing on its own, having Claire already in preschool. It was a typical Fall day in Seattle. The sky was gray and a little rain fell. After one winter in Seattle, the rain becomes a part of you. Sometimes it gets heavy, the weight of the constant grayness, but the rain somehow feels familiar as though you are always expecting it - and you do. Out of nowhere, though, the sun can find its way. I enjoy driving down 15th Avenue because there are a few spots, if you look at just the right moment, where you have a breathtaking view of Mt. Rainier. Breathtaking is such a cliche but I still have that sensation whenever I see Mt. Rainier. (I haven’t even been there yet. I’ve only ever seen it from Seattle.) The rain continued to fall as I reached the apex of 15th and began my descent. From about 85th St the view is four lanes of traffic, of course, but in the distance are small hills of Seattle and its skyline, Mt. Rainier just beyond those, a glimpse of Salmon Bay, and trees - oh, just trees everywhere. Under the gray I saw all of those things. It was beautiful. The clouds broke just over the Bay and there was the sun shining on the water. Low clouds pushing underneath. In my little car, with my two year old singing in the back seat, I was many places at once and yet felt as though I had no idea where I was.
Experiencing so much nature from inside a car is bizarre. I don’t have to experience it from the car. I do go outside (despite the rain, sometimes). In Seattle, I’m almost always in the car. But the beauty of Seattle remains. We are in constant conflict.
Hello, Internet. I know. There are a lot of blogs out there. This blog is my third. My goal is to have one - this one. I just want a place where I can write about whatever I want: no special interest, no branding, just me. I need to practice writing again. I need to practice writing for an audience even if I don’t expect anyone to read it.
I’m excited. I love beginnings.