One thing Job wanted to do before shipping out for the Coast Guard was to tour Seattle, particularly the Space Needle.  I had tried when he was younger to get him to agree to go up it but he wasn't having any of that. And so we lived in Washington 18 years, near Seattle even, before we ever took in this "touristy" icon. It was  beautiful end of September day, the kind that invites one to linger out doors soaking up the sun, enjoying the leaves on the trees before they are swept away by wind and rain. Job had an appointment early in the day for some final testing and so we dropped him off and explored a bit of Capitol Hill.  This is a neighborhood I could spend more time at. Oddfellows book shop took most of our time looking, browsing, and even a bit of reading. Then next door we popped in for a snack and waited for a call from Job. A short time later we were looking for a parking spot so we could take that long elevator ride to the top. While waiting in line for the ride up, I found about $100 in cash on the ground.  We turned it in, wishing and wanting to keep it.  Hope someone who lost it, went back and found at the desk of the Space Needle.  Was the price worth it to pay to go to the top? Maybe once. The floor moves, and you can look down to the ground while watching the gears turn.  The planes that fly at eye level or below are a bit unnerving and fascinating all at once. The view is beautiful but I'm thinking there is another building with a view that includes the Space Needle that might need to be checked out to compare. We wandered Pikes Place Market as well and had a pasta dinner in this tiny cafe which was delicious. It was a nice good bye dinner before dropping Job off and giving him one last hug.

There is this little piece of land that juts out into the water just south of Marine Park. We've talked before of having a picnic out here and watching the sun set over the islands in the sound.  Instead of a picnic we walked along side the tracks to make our way to this secluded spot. We had been so busy lately and it seemed as though each activity was expensive. I needed a break but I also needed to be able to do something. This was it. It was free, a walk along the shore. It was beautiful and allowed me to be creative. It was calming and we set our own pace. When we do things like this, I feel like I can connect with my husband and yet also do my own thing. We talk often about our children, discuss our concerns, go through the highlights, wonder about the future, theirs and ours. Things are changing this year and I am not sure how they will play out. This type of activity allows us to think, recharge, and to just be.

The boat sat low in the water, quiet, rocking back and forth as the tiny waves lapped at it's side. Suddenly it lurched as a body went over the back into the water. There was an intake of breath as her head popped back up and her body took in the cold of the lake. In the PNW, the water doesn't quiet warm up and the day isn't baking hot to offset the cold, but they ski and board anyway. The rope was coiled and then tossed her direction as the boat slowly floated away from her. She used her arms to propel herself to the end of the rope. The flagger raised the flag letting other boaters in the area there was a person in the water. The driver turned around and after confirmation of a cleared prop, started the engine of the boat. It chugged, coughing and turned over. A sigh of relief went through the crew. There had been too many times of calling to other boaters for a tow and so each time we all held our breath until the engine would come to life. We turned back to her waiting for her signal. "Hit it" came from the water and the driver pushed the gas level down send the boat forward. We watched as she popped up out of the water effortlessly. She started weaving back and forth, getting her balance for the speed and the waves. The signals of slower and faster were given until she was satisfied and then started moving the board across the wake in and out. The warm air quickly dried her off as set herself up for the jumps. Each time, she closed her mouth and concentrated as her board sailed over the wake gaining height and distance, not easy when there isn't a tower to help, but still doable. We cheered and encouraged and laughed. Then a rest and the next person took to the water. He hadn't boarded before but was athletic. She coached and explained how to pop out of the water. He tried, came close and tried again and then it clicked, like when riding a bike. He was out of the water and balanced, working on the same technique as her. We cheered. Then the next contested went into the water but of course boarding was not on his mind, he wanted to slolemn ski. He tried with one, over and over again, but this was his first time in the water for the year. We floated him the other ski and he rose out of the water and immediately dropped the ski. We wove our wave back and forth across Agate bay as he leaned to one side and the other trying to make a big spray. As the sun started to make it's way to the western part of the ski and the shadows lengthened, we needed to make our way to the dock. the driver wanted time in the water and to see if he had still had the technique. The boat rocked as he slipped in and the intake of breath was loud. He slipped on the ski, grabbed the rope and yelled, "Hit it."  The boat surged forward slowly, because it's old and it doesn't have much power.
The water pushed against his head sending a spray skyward. He held his breath until there was enough power to pull him out of the water. Once skimming above the surface he cut hard as he showed off to the teens in the boat, showing them what summers on a lake taught him.

Blackberry picking is not for the faint of heart. The thorns tear at your flesh and grab your clothes as you reach towards the dark purple fruit. We scout out our spot and drive by watching, waiting for the perfect time to start picking. Blackberries grow everywhere, invading parking areas, crumbling asphalt, pushing up between the tiniest cracks. And yet we love the tarte fruit. Blackberries scones, waffles, and jams are all on the list. We fill our recycled ice cream buckets full of the berries. It takes maybe an hour if that. All the while plans are being made in our heads for blackberry cobbler for dessert that night. I stop picking thorns out of my thumb, disentangling my clothing from the long thorny vines. My fingers are purple and red stained from juice as I pull over ripe berries off their clusters. The heat bakes the berries and releases the aromatic sense blanketing the abandoned lot with sweet fruit smells. All this enhances our anticipation for what will come out of the oven later today.

I love my flower pots this year.  I stuck with a color theme, green, white and  hints of red or pink but not as flowers but in the leaves.  In each of our pots with the light poles, John planted a geranium or two, some petunias, allysium, and a perennial.  The perennials were all different.  One pot had a fern and that was in the pot with the most shade. Then I planted jasmine so that it would crawl up the pole.  The 3rd pot had thyme and the 4th I planted rosemary.  The annuals filled in the pots while the perennials had time to fill in.  The front pots were amazing as well.  I kept to the same color scheme.  John really knows how to keep plants alive and he made it beautiful. 

The early morning mist floated off the ocean in the morning towards the hills only to return in the evening as it was greeted by the sinking sun. The water glimmered with sparkles as the waves licked the sand. As the sun slows rises or sets, the waves and sky take on pastel hues of pinks, purples and oranges. I try to get out and walk along the beach in the evening and in the morning. For some reason I find quiet in these moments and yet the ocean is never quiet. It is loud, continuous, pounding even. And yet there is a quiet serenity that calls to me and quiets the inner turmoil. There is space here where the sky is big and it mingles with the ocean. The colors compliment though there is a sharp contrast of dark and light it works in a soothing way. For the week that I am here, I soak in these views not taking it for granted and vow to enjoy the views at home like I do here and then I let the busy-ness overtake me and forget until I see these views again.