An electric buzz runs across my skin. I look out the airplane window to see the Emerald City come into view.
I’m home again, back in Seattle. No matter how long it has been, I always feel more of my self, my true self, here in this city.
I take my familiar route from the airport to the light rail train that will wind through the suburbs, past the industrial district and into downtown. I exit with ease and emerge among the skyscrapers and the pungent smell of salty sea air and green herbs.
I check in to my hotel, a refurbished building of old that has the charm I’m looking for, even if my wallet choked on the expense. Wine, scallops and gnocchi pass by my lips as I watch the night go by against the glass buildings.
I rise early the next morning and walk down to the Public Market. It’s eerily quiet this early in the morning, as almost everything is still closed. I wander around the back stairs and alleyways to see if I can find anything unusual.
A little cafe overlooking the Puget sound opens and I get a table for one, a hearty breakfast and a tall bloody mary. I watch the sea birds in silence.
Satisfied, I head to the car rental center and make my way to the Mukilteo ferry. My destination is Whidbey Island for the long Holiday weekend.
I’m re-connecting once again to my birth place.