When my family moved from the east coast to Seattle, Washington, it took us a long time to settle in. We didn't feel at home in the pacific northwest, rather as though we'd been clumsily transplanted and couldn't take root in this wet, weak new soil. Where was the granite of New Hampshire? Where had the red brick and shake roofs of old New England gone? Where were the quiet barns on the green hillsides, the long winding country lanes bordered by oaks and maples?
Everything felt cold, distant, unfriendly in Seattle. The people were unsociable, introverted, quiet. We joked about the city feeling like one giant Scandinavian fishing village, all its inhabitants quietly going about their business without making eye contact or stopping to chat, huddled in wool to hide from the constant drizzle and oppressive grey.
We complained about the excessive politeness, which to East Coasters comes across as insincere and passive-aggressive. We rolled our eyes at the lack of loyalty we often saw amongst our circles of acquaintance, everyday little betrayals we experienced at school or work that sent all of us into seething tempers. "If that fazool pulled a stunt like that in the North End, not the "North West", they'd-a been--" followed by a swift, significant motion of the hand indicating either a slit jugular or complete excommunication from all decent society.
But after ten years of living in the rainy city, and after a decade of kvetching about disloyalty, cowardice, passive-aggression, we've somehow come to love it for what it is.
I love Seattle, and I love Washington state. One of the things I love most about the place is how easy it is to leave the city and find yourself in a completely different world: green, lush, quiet, peaceful.
By far our favourite way to escape city life is by ferry.
On the ferry, you can reach the many islands that float off the coast of Washington state. On this particular trip, we took the ferry from Seattle to Bainbridge Island, and then drove from there for the Olympic Peninsula for a family camping trip.
It was dark by the time we reached the shore. Sunset blazed behind the trees, and though we were all tired, we took heart upon seeing such simple, but radiant beauty. The roads were quiet, and we followed the sunset further and further west, watching as it turned from orange, to pink, to the softest of violets.
I love this last photo. It's not a great photo, nor even one of my better ones. But the sight of the city in the distance, with the trees behind us reflected in the car's sideview mirror...Something about that strikes me. It captures the feeling I have when I'm on the ferry, crossing between worlds with a foot in the city, a foot in nature. I've never felt anything else quite like it.