The theme of Sightseeing Saturday is to highlight a place I’ve always wanted to go in an artistic fictional fashion. The places highlighted in these posts will not have been traveled at the time of the post, but will be linked to the future posts when I’ve stepped foot in these destinations. I will not guarantee that they will come out each Saturday, but I will try my best. The fiction within the post will reflect the mood of my day. I hope you enjoy.
I stepped foot off the bus, into a puddle. Great. My luggage was soiled at the bottom and my move to Emerald City wasn’t seeming so extravagant. Best I could say so far is that I caught WiFi almost everywhere I walked, barely hitting dead-spots. Lord only knows how I needed it since I didn’t have the money to pay my cell phone bills.
I was confused and twisted around this fast growing city and couldn’t tell my head from my bum, but I managed to find my apartment after walking in circles for three miles. No wonder, it’s one of the world’s fittest cities. You have no choice but to keep going until you find your way either by fate or by chance. Being so new here, it was hard to imagine understanding its intricacies, even within the two year duration of my stay.
I knew I was going in circles because many times, no matter how many rights or lefts I made, I somehow ended up back near this mural of sorts. I couldn’t tell if that was a stage or if the skateboarders here thought they were more in the zone when in the presence of neatly put together artwork. I hadn’t seen much color anywhere else yet, that’s for sure.
It didn’t feel so green here between the brick and mortar of the city streets. I fooled myself in to thinking the city would be as lush as the forests that bounded the city in for as long as their natural borders could; a fallacy of logic. Closest thing to nature from here was the harbor. No wonder, so many grunge artists have come from this place. It’s already hard to stay positive as it is without the sublime suggestions of God in the shape and form of the weather. It reminded me of Baltimore, but smelled fresher, smelled cleaner. That was a plus.
Then there I was. Forced to take the stairs due to an elevator that had an “out of order” sign hanging out of it, like a homeless man who sat on the curb and could no longer be identified as a panhandler; no longer having the energy to go beg as this elevator no longer had the mechanical fortitude to carry people and things from one floor to the next. With every step bringing me closer to the apartment, still drenched and weary from a days worth of travel to cap the third and final day of transit, the only thing that edge me onward is the hits of epinephrine my adrenal glands graciously released into my bloodstream.
It was the moment I had been waiting for, stepping into the apartment and seeing the Space Needle. I let myself in after minutes struggling with the lock and feeling as though the door, keys, myself, or a combination of the three wanted me to stay out. I slid my bag in along the hardwood floor and walked straight to the balcony to catch the last shade of sunlight for this day’s rotation. Only then, as I gripped the railing of the balcony, did I have my first smile in Seattle. Despite the shitty start I looked onward with hope, gratuity and positive aspirations for what the next two years had in store for me and knew that even in the dismal downpour of the those inveigling grey clouds, my time in Seattle would be fun, free and fulfilling.