Yesterday was my last day on the farm. It was a slower day spent taking the stakes off of the solidifying greenhouse foundation, packing, and saying my goodbyes. The day of departure always seems stuck in between. I feel suspended with a future adventure ahead and another resting behind me. The interim high wire is stuck in the middle until I fall off into whatever life holds next. From family reunions to graduation weekends, there is always a dense uncertainty in the air. A good friend recently told me, "We find ourselves on the edge of a wonderful abyss where we can fall into a whole new self." This whole year feels something like that, and with a transition to a new distinct part it's especially fitting.
So now I have one more week in a city that has planted some seeds of interest in me. As I sit in a coffee shop with more regulars passing through than visitors like me, it seems fitting to describe what has stuck out about this city to me.
Overall I'm very much not a city man. Big surprise considering my choice of employment this year, I know. But Seattle has become the only one I can envision living in as of now. The glass paneled giants of New York City and Chicago feel too watchful and heavy to me. Minneapolis is perhaps too familiar in its suburban sprawl. To be fair I haven't truly lived in any large metropolitan area for an extended period, so maybe my overall preferences may be changing. Never less, Seattle has a draw for for me.
The divisions of neighborhoods create the feeling of separate cultures and environments. Magnolia and Queen Anne sit on their high rise bluffs looking down with coffee shop windows and homes with individual personalities housing growing families. Just below Fremont displays its art and attitude to everyone who passes through. Mammoth trolls under bridges and John Legend greet you with stoic statue gazes. And driving through on Halloween revealed a cornucopia of characters. Husky Stadium and second hand sporting goods stores on the shores of Lake Union keep the U District full of college vibes. Green Lake pulses with the joggers, bikers, and baby carriages circling the lake. SoDo holds the industrial factories that have not gone the restaurant renovations of Ballard ones of old. Downtown still grows too tall for me, but there are more tats than ties, more flannels than two pieces. More color is needed to combat the skies of grey that threaten to dampen most days. There is character in most places I look.
In short, each neighborhood feels distinct and all its own. Separate cities rather than parts of one large machine. To be fair, I have found that people build my feelings towards a place more than the blocks that pass beneath my feet or the buildings that catch my eye. And the people I have shared Seattle with have only improved on its allure. Still, I think certain places can bring out better parts of people. Seeing as I probably won't live on top of a triumphant mountain peak or