It is the time of moody records and blankets, and nearly the time of candles. Though there’s late afternoon sun it doesn’t have the same warmth and it’s wet, the ground smells, the earth sighs: and we are all holding… Read More ›
Seattle
The day the rain stopped
The last rain fell on July 10. They were saying that was it, it would be a long time before it came back. When the rain ends in Seattle it’s like time stops—and when it returns it’s like an old… Read More ›
‘Undead’
On the first day of summer I took my morning walk beneath a marine layer of clouds. The cool onshore flow was back, making the trees swish. The blackberry vines were starting to bud out with their green, knobby fists… Read More ›
‘Here we were’
It was so warm outside I could write with my shirt off in the shade. The maple tree by the sports court looked like one of the figures on Easter Island with its long face, except for the bat house… Read More ›
The first of the 7 o’clock sunsets
Sunday, the first day +60 degrees in a long time. In the morning under the trees it sounds like the birds are filling into the auditorium, taking their seats. They all know when to come back and they all know… Read More ›
‘Something out of nothing’
On the twenty-first floor of the Grand Hyatt hotel I stood at the window in my bathrobe looking out at the high-rises and cranes above, mountains in the distance and ferryboats, all the people looking back in at us. I… Read More ›
“Life Before Fabric Softener” (a memoir)
Interrupting my journal-in-Germany series today with an excerpt from my new, to-be written memoir “Life Before Fabric Softener.” It starts on the 20-year anniversary of my first extended stay in Europe, in the south of France. December, 1997 Capitol Hill,… Read More ›
Following false leads down the side streets to identity
Though it would hit 85 in Seattle (the last time for a year) I was sickly, pale and soft, an analogy to a piece of fruit that’s gone bad from the insides. I got off the phone with KLM to… Read More ›
The denial phase
Dawn and I sat at the top of our yard after we got our things out and talked. I had everything drying in the driveway, the sleeping bags draped over the cars. They didn’t need dried out, I just liked… Read More ›
“A lifetime in three days”
All is quiet on Independence Day, oddly. In my hammock with a book, leaves scitter across the sports court and could be the dog, but she’s inside. Pre-fall, even now. No need for sunscreen, there’s a thin band of clouds… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 