Autumn Exists

It's almost fall. The weather is getting cool, school is about to start. (Teachers care a lot about fall.) And for the first time in many years, I live in a place that actually has an autumn. I'm excited. Fall has always been my favorite season, and I'm happy I get the chance to enjoy it.

Enjoying fall means driving the kids through the country to see leaves and drink cider. It means begging Jaime to bake treats. (But honestly every season means that. Fall just means I'll get more treats per beg.) Fall means food and cool weather. If I had more time, fall would mean long walks under beautiful foliage. But I don't imagine I'll be walking anywhere except to to and from school.

I'm anxious to get the school year started. I'm really anxious to get into the semester and get some of my projects done. It's insane to think that this time next year I'll have my own elementary school class. The first step to that is getting into the fall and accomplishing my work. The leaves turning red is just a bonus.

Misty September Morn

It's one of those signs that you are truly going native. The morning comes, in late August or early September, when there is a mist hanging in the air. It's cool, overcast, and the summer is really gone. And you don't mind at all. You may, surprisingly to some, gather up your little ones and take a nice urban walk through rain and errant cyclists.

I got the kids bundled up in rain slickers, and we went for a nice walk in the rain. We walked along the canal in Fremont, one of my favorite places in Seattle. I love the strange sight of boats sailing past, the cool dinosaurs made of ivy that Arkaedi is speeding past in the photo. I don't like the odd and disturbing signs of alcoholism, such as discarded malt liquor/caffeine energy drink cans(wow, thank you marketing department; amped up drunks, we really needed those!)(I was being sarcastic, marketing department. Please stop making horrible crap.) and trash. But overall, it's a pleasant little walk.

I've come to terms with aspects of Seattle I dislike, such as the small town mentality jammed into large city culture, and the odd hipster mythos. The weather, one thing outsiders expect to hate, I love. I went through a period of dislike, sure, but I am anxious for winter and the cool rains. I am looking forward to the ever present mist. (For one, it provides endless opportunities for 13th Warrior references. Which only I appreciate. But continue to make.)

I'm ready for more fun. I have child sized rain gear, I have extra clothes and snacks. I have my trusty fleece, and I am totally willing and able to run to REI and get more. I am ready to accept you, rainy season.

Seattle Day

Today was an amazing day. Lovely, cool but not cold. It's the kind of fall day that makes Seattle great. Don't talk to me in January, sure. But I love these nice fall days.

This time of year makes me want to buy a farm in Carnation. But then I'd miss the fun city aspects of Seattle. I'm not sure what it is about this city, but I went from hating it a lot to enjoying it a lot. Again don't talk to me in January. But for now...

I took the kids to the library, and to Ken's Market. I love that even in little corner markets here you can get organic food and hummus. They didn't have bulk teas though; I'm going to take Cathy's advice and check out Greenwood Market. At least I can walk there.

I think one reason I'm enjoying the city more is the change in myself over the past few months. Events that have occurred have made me less concerned with ideological differences and more interested in the present moment. I'm not offended by abstractions as easily. Despite problems with this place, it is a good city, with good food and nice people; it doesn't have to fit an image I construct in my mind.

Living in my current neighborhood helps with that. It's a family place, and fits well with the practical realities of my situation. This is where I am with my life, and I'm comfortable with that. I like working with kids, I like raising my kids. I'm not interested in creating my past or future anymore. I'm content with just being who I am, where I am. I've seen firsthand the dangers of living in one's imagination, and I am beginning to understand it now.

That reminds me of one of my favorite poems:

The Rain
BY ROBERT CREELEY

All night the sound had
come back again,
and again falls
this quiet, persistent rain.

What am I to myself
that must be remembered,
insisted upon
so often? Is it

that never the ease,
even the hardness,
of rain falling
will have for me

something other than this,
something not so insistent—
am I to be locked in this
final uneasiness.

Love, if you love me,
lie next to me.
Be for me, like rain,
the getting out

of the tiredness, the fatuousness, the semi-
lust of intentional indifference.
Be wet
with a decent happiness.


I'm not sure why, but that seems fitting.