More Things About October I Have Forgotten

Chief among them: I miss Seattle. In a heart-aching sort of way that seems to grip me precisely this time of year. Maybe the onset of fall sets off a yearning in my bones for rain. Maybe at heart I am a sea turtle, driven by instinct to make the long journey home every year. Because the consistency of this urge is striking.

It was in October exactly six years ago that Rick and I made our first journey north. It must have been a certain kind of crazy that overwhelmed us. There is no other explanation I can offer for packing up -- with $700 in hand, no jobs, and no place to stay -- and running off to a city whose economy was just beginning to slow, right at the start of the most dismal time of year, weather-wise. (I know. I know. Where do you sign, right?)

But we loaded up our Volkswagen bus and off we went. We had planned to camp (in the bus, of course) in the hills of Issaquah until we found something more permanent in the city. Which would have worked out well enough, I suppose, if there was only rain to contend with. But it turned out that October 2002 was the coldest October Seattle had seen in a very long time. And what I remember is the two of us, wearing absolutely every article of clothing we packed all at once, huddled together, sharing a beer, and listening to the far-off strains of the San Francisco Giants losing the World Series on the radio.

It was magical, really. (Despite the unfortunate outcome of the World Series, I mean.) One of my absolute, most-favorite moments of being married.

And it calls out to my heart every year.

it's one of these nights :: It was just a dream.
wandering around Seattle :: car wash