Sunday marked the beginning of Fall, and here in Seattle it could not have been a more perfect autumn day. After a lazy morning snuggle, Jonboy and I walked on down to the Ballard Farmers Market in search of hot coffee and the fresh fixins’ for a late breakfast.
We sifted through each stand lining the street, picking up apples, carrots, kale, potatoes, peppers and tomatoes. We stopped in a quaint, little coffee shop in one of the old buildings on the same street as the market. Sitting in front of the big window on small wooden stools, Jon worked on a puzzle while I watched people. When Jon found a deck of cards, of course we had to play a game of cribbage. We had nowhere to be, except there in that moment. A good old fashioned Sunday.
Just as we stepped back outside, the rain really started to drop down. We huddled under the canopies of stands as we picked up a few more items for our meal, and then headed back to the comfort of my apartment. Once inside, we took our time making a beautiful breakfast: a medley of potatoes, peppers, onions and garlic cooked in the cast iron skillet with fried eggs and fresh tomatoes over top, my favorite Central Bakery Como bread toasted to perfection with butter smeared across, and a refreshing green smoothie to wash it all down.
After we ate, the clouds parted and the sun streamed through. Jon went home, and I spent the afternoon walking in the mist of a sun shower. The simultaneous combination of sun and rain was quite symbolic, with the lingering aftertaste of summer still with me and the thirst for all that this new season brings steadily building. This in-between stage is most comforting to me. Always, whether it be time of day or time of year. Not quite one, but not quite the other. Transition. Cusp.
And as we move deeper into the comfort of this next season, the last will slowly and happily fade into only memory until, in the heart of winter, we ache for those days of hot sun once again. The seasons keep moving, and they carry me along. In a land where the contrasts of season are so pronounced, it is single-handedly the most significant impact on daily life. The clothing we put on each morning is changing. Our activities are adjusting. The tasty barbecues of warm July evenings are turning to the slow-cooked pot roasts of gloomy October nights. The chairs where we have eaten on outdoor patios the last few months will collect puddles and pine needles, and we will move inside where we will wrap ourselves in a knit blanket and eat our steaming stew from a warm bowl.
These changes to season result in adjustments to life, which keeps things interesting.
Right now, this is what Fall in Seattle is all about. Steamy coffee, wet streets scattered with yellow leaves, rain jackets, comforting food, long walks, occasional sun showers and good company. Sunday was the perfect day, and way, to open up the Autumn season.
How will your life adjust with the changing season?