stormy pacific northwest

This morning was epic gorgeous. I am not a lover of the cold weather, and dread every fall season I watch creeping up on me. But this morning I felt shockingly cheerful about the coming winter as I walked down the downtown Seattle sidewalk. It was raining yellow and orange maple leaves, all spiked and twirly, in great numbers. There was a stiff breeze, coming up behind me from the water, whipping my skirts about my legs. Since I was snug and cozy (in my thick tights, bloomers, skirt, coat, scarf & gloves and finally--most importantly--my big white fur hat that wraps all around my head and ears and ties under my chin), I felt the strength of the wind without the bite, that exhilarating "I'm lighter than air!" feeling without the usual "Grrrrr, and fucking freezing, too!" So I tripped lightly up the sidewalk, bundled tight and safe, and smiled like a dummy in the face of the advancing Hell that is winter.

I can't feel it swaying, here on the 19th floor, but I can hear the wind in the steady creaking of the ceiling tiles at my office, and in the stiff, subtle shuddering of the windows behind me. The waves behind the Pike Place Market are peaked and choppy. The clouds are racing across the sky, and are never the same color or shape the next time I look back.

I can't wait to go home and light a couple candles on my dinner table. Right before sitting down and diving back into work... :(