We’re survivalists here in Seattle. We’ve learned to do things like substitute caffeine for Vitamin D, and there’s a definite edge that comes with our survival mentality. It’s no wonder that angst-ridden grunge music was birthed beneath our leaden sky. Seattle is not for the faint of heart.
But those who know her can see her true beauty. It comes in the ever-shifting contrast of light and dark. Yes, the sky is often gray, but there are infinite shades of gray. The hesitant, misty gray of fall mornings. The angry, slate gray of storm clouds. The brushed steel of an overcast afternoon.
There are days when I long for the sun. There are times when I leave for a week or two in search of it, but I always come back. Seattle will always be my home.
It’s imperfect and moody, and yet it’s unbelievably beautiful. That’s probably why I love it so much. It gives me hope that somewhere among all my flaws there is beauty to be found.
The city persists—thrives even—beneath the clouds, and I’m encouraged by its unrelenting belief that the sun still exists up there somewhere. Seattle is where my soul—all too familiar with overcast days of its own—feels at home.
Where does your soul feel at home?
©2012 Kim Vandel