Glurk

Early January in Seattle. This is the season for what I call "the glurk."

A lot of people begin to suffer from seasonal affective disorder, or S.A.D. this time of year. A lot of others, like myself, don't have symptoms of full-blown sad, but become gloomy and kind of sloppy, just like the weather outside.

Here's a view of the downtown skyline, or maybe I should say "glurkline," from West Seattle. On a sunny day it's gorgeous, and even now it's kind of impressive.

The city is still beautiful, especially after dark, which comes very early now. The thousands of lights shimmer and seem to vibrate subtly in the wet atmosphere. However, driving out to see it after dark in this weather is not the wisest idea.

Still, a good thing to do when it's wet and cold like this is arrange to meet friends in a warm, brightly-lit, somewhat noisy restaurant for a good, solid meal washed down by lots of hot coffee. It's great party weather. The Salish Indians used to repair to their long lodges in the late fall for the winter round dances. They filled up on salmon they'd smoked during the summer and thanked the deities for their prosperity, wholly a function of the primeval abundance of this land and this gentle, inland sea.

Some salmon smoked the traditional way by the Duwamish, in a pit lined with alder leaves to hold in the smoke from the embers of green alder twigs, would be good right now. But I'm having spaghetti from Central Market instead, and I'm not complaining. We do complain about winter here, but I'd still rather be in Seattle than in Minnesota or Chicago or even Santa Fe.