Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Missing Pieces

An essay I wrote in 2001.

Missing Pieces
by David L. Miller
Copyright 2001

I loved this winter in California, the leaves changed colors,
it was cloudy and cool, rained a lot, windy and cold some days.
It was like being back on the UW campus, walking to class,
looking up through the huge trees at the clouds racing by,
looking east at the snowy Cascades, west at the snowy Olympics,
water all around shimmering,

Rainier dominating my southern view, a monument to solidarity and strength.

Sailboats, rowing teams, ferries, and thousands of people running, walking, and bicycling everywhere.
Green grass, green trees, green bushes.
People playing frisbee, flying kites, canoeing.
Skateboarders and street rats asking for spare change on University Ave.

The space needle looking like its floating in the clouds, or possibly a flying saucer inspecting the city.

The cold air in the morning coming in off the Puget Sound, its 40 degrees out; then your hit with this blast that’s 10-20 degrees colder.....*Bam* right in the face, your skin tightens, goose bumps appear on your arms, the clouds move a little faster overhead, like they are trying desperately to reach some warmer climate.
You wish them well and notice how alive you feel, cold, but alive.

All your senses are in use now, the wind, the air, the rain, the cold.
People, buses, bikes, cars racing by.
Nature all around, in constant motion, never a dull moment.

You smell some diesel exhaust, some fresh cut grass, a hint of salt from the ocean air.
The sound of a car horn in the distance, the trees swish and sway,
a seagull cries as it alights from one body of water to the next.

It's hilly in the Northwest, you must work to get anywhere.
Your legs are pumping, your heart is pumping, your backpack with books
and projects strains at your shoulders as you climb another hill or flight of stairs.
Everything around you tells you that you are.
Every sense is keyed, everything that can happen happens.
This is what I miss of the Northwest.

This is why, even though SoCal may grow on me and I may be comfortable and happy;
it can’t make me feel like I did in the Northwest.
It doesn’t have the ability to entertain all my sense at the same time in such a pleasant and even comforting way.
It can never make me feel so......alive.

I want it to rain, I want a 520 car wash, I want my umbrella to occasionally turn inside out. I want to watch clouds pass overhead at upwards of 100 mph, I want to see those pesky Canadian Geese flying and pooping everywhere. I want to see people biking to work in weather that reminds you of a special you saw on Indonesian Typhoons. I want to wear boots, and jeans, and a big jacket, and a hat, every-stinking-day. I want it to rain every day for 93 days straight. I want to look out the window where I used to work in Redmond and be able to see the Salmon going to Lake Sammamish. I could see Salmon migrating from where I worked!

Only in the Northwest, only there.