and how about that weather

Seattlites like to joke about our seasons- 9 or 10 months of rain during the fall-winter-spring, and one fantastic summer, comfortably warm and dry, which begins July fifth. Some like to joke that people who end up moving here invariably come during one of our two dry months and are consequently unprepared for what they've gotten into. Enter Global Warming. We had a weird summer, a shy and temperamental one, this past year, and now we get a real winter. Snow here and there the past couple months, and plenty of freezing temperatures and cold wind. And on top of that, not as strong a presence as we're used to of precipitation. We had multiple consecutive-day streaks of cold, sunny weather, where the direct sunlight was gleaming off the Cascades and Olympics over the water. It was stunning, and looking out from my desk over Elliot Bay (through that beautiful structure we call The Alaskan Way Viaduct) in my usual distracted state, I thought, where are we? With the overnight snows unexpected by the weather forecasters, and the clear presence of sunlight, it just feels eerily unlike Seattle. I'm used to grey blankets of drizzly clouds draped over the city for weeks; the mountains, opposite shores, and sometimes even nearby neighborhoods obscured from view by their ubiquitous murk. Don't get me wrong, we've still got that lovely oh-it's-nice-to-get-out-of-that-and-come-in-by-the-fire mentality, with the cool temperatures, that inspires the clasic coffee, microbrew, and edgy-music-scene culture. However we're maybe feeling less waterlogged and more exposed and wind-parched, coming out on our lunch breaks like disbelieving mole people, adjusting our computer-weary, beady winter eyes to the unusual weather.

It snowed a week or so ago unexpectedly in the early morning hours, and for some reason I couldn't sleep and was pleasantly surprised to see it falling outside my bedroom picture window. When it was clear that I wasn't going back to sleep after my uncharacteristic 4:30 awakening, I got up and walked to the top of the hill to enjoy the quietude of the snow falling over a dark, still-sleeping town.

link to flickr set

I traipsed around my neighborhood and enjoyed the peacefulness of the city from her most stunning overlook, Kerry Park. Still catches my breath every time, no matter what the weather. And even though I missed the last on-schedule bus by a block and had to walk halfway to work, I still got into the office two hours before I usually do (which regularly means nine twenty-five, and late, groggy, and a bit of a deaf-mute), impressing the typical early birds.