the long way home

Autumn has quite the effect on me.

Having moved to the Northwest in the fall season three years ago, I found myself captivated by the leaves appearing to go up in flames colourwise, and eventually tumbling to the ground. I grew up in a place with not too many seasons – certainly nothing like this – so these events grab my heart.

October ’12, Sam Smith Park, Seattle

Since this time of year is so extraordinary to me, I try to do things to make it last a little longer. I sip cider and chai, and excitedly imbibe. I read books or knock shows off my Netflix queue and take snack breaks while watching the rain fall. I rely on common transport a bit less if I am able and up to the task of finding excuses to walk.

If I happen to be hanging out with others who are driving during our time together, I appreciate it when they take the long ways getting me home. I swell up with a certain pride when an area new to me reveals itself; Seattle is full of hidden treasures, and even when I’ve been here five or ten years I doubt I’ll make a dent.

Saturday night was a short wonder with one of my best mates, flying down 23rd Avenue ever so gently, scanning the leaves being whisked this way and that by the wind, in the midst of stray trick-or-treaters of all ages.

Exploring has surely got to be among the greatest highs in life. It can be terrifying and invigorating simultaneously. Feels like a tickle of my subconscious at its most intense, with the potential to bring me closer to someone, using that shared sensation of the world outside as a link. Doing so locally is a treat, especially when it doesn’t cost much.

The temperature is gradually decreasing, the air is crisp and fresh, and the expected noise of the city seems muted. It’s difficult to explain just what it is that makes this time and place stand out above the rest, but I don’t think I’d want it any other way.

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