July 14, 2012
I lived in Seattle for a few months in the fall of 2009 and I’m pretty sure I may have left a small piece of myself there so that one day I could go back and retrieve it. I absolutely love the Pacific Northwest and all the raincoats, scarves and sturdy shoes that go with it.
They say it’s good to put things in writing because that makes it all the more real, the harder for your mind to talk you out of your dreams as they start to come to fruition. So I will say it right here, right now, that in my ideal world I would escape the intense heat of a southern summer for a house with lots of windows overlooking Puget Sound or Elliot Bay (either one would be fine, I’m not picky). I would spend those summer months writing, taking pictures, road tripping all over, getting to know the Pacific Northwest inside and out. It would become my second home.
And then when I’ve had my fill, I’d return to Nashville in mid-September when the humidity breaks and the sun feels like it’s wrapping you in a warm cotton blanket instead of a scratchy old electric blanket from the eighties with the heat turned up to high. The mild-mannered winter is always just cold enough so as to appease my northern roots, and the spring, oh the spring!, the likes of which I’ve never witnessed anywhere else with hot pink flowering trees (I believe that’s the correct latin term), rose bushes, bright blue skies, and of course, being springtime in the South, the sometimes harrowing thunderstorms that remind you with brute force, just who exactly is in charge of things around here. And then come mid-June, I’d start the cycle all over again. And again. And again. And again.
So there you have it. My dream scenario, or at least, the very beginning of it.