Yesterday the weather here in Seattle was perfect–a day stolen from early May. We went to the park (again). Kelley has a vile throat virus thing, but we thought a bit of sun might help bake it out of her system. For once, we remembered to take the camera. But when I stood on the front porch, everything looked and smelt so delicious I just plopped down on the step and admired our neighbourhood. Then I remembered the camera:
Because Kelley was all death-on-a-cracker, we didn’t do much walking when we got to the park. Instead we sat like two frowzy old cats on our favourite bench and gazed at out over the water:
There were a bunch o’ coots (or something like that) bobbing mindlessly over the wavelets, but frankly I couldn’t be bothered to stand up and take their picture. I just held hands with K and zoned out. Careless of our view, this bird decided to rudely interrupt our peace and perform her courtship ritual for us: warbling song, some odd leaping in the air and landing in the same place. No idea what kind of bird:
Then the chipmunk that lives in the brush by the bench zipped along the fence. She was moving so fast that her legs were a cartoon blur. But if you zoom in and squint you can at least imagine she’s there.
On the way home I did what I’ve been meaning to do ever since we first moved here: I took a photo as we drove down our street to our house. Every time we drive down our street my heart beats high and an irrational part of me thinks, Oh, maybe this time when we get to the end we really will have a view! But inevitably the road dips and the mountains and the water slip into another dimension. I console myself that if this house had a view, we couldn’t afford to live here…
Sadly, this morning was recycling day, so everyone’s crap is cluttering up the road. But ignore that. See that tiny sign at the end? It says ‘No dumping of any kind’ and it marks the commons at the end of the cul-de-sac, a bit of grass running into the ravine. In summer we gather with neighbours for croquet and G&T–or we did once. Now we just do the drinking :) Our house is immediately to the right, hidden and snug.
Imagine me sipping tea on the deck and eating homemade rosemary butter cookies; looking at the blossoming dogwood and the broad-leaf maples (no leaves as yet, though they’re beginning to flower) in the ravine; listening to two Stellar’s jays shouting at each other over something; knowing that pretty soon I’ll go eat some focaccia made with homegrown herbs. (All wheaty goodness prepared by kind neighbours because K is sick and, hey, I don’t bake. I do other intriguing, awesome things but I don’t bake…)