Winter Break

It was an unusual winter's day today in Seattle. It's not just that there was no rain; that happens often enough. But additionally, there was actually some sunshine -- weak sunshine, partial sunshine, but sunshine nonetheless. And the temperature rose to an unwinterly 54 degrees, so that it felt almost warm outside.

That was the signal for the sun-starved Seattle techno-proletariat to throng to Green Lake and enjoy an unanticipated and serendipitous winter's break. We may not have another weekend like this until April, and maybe not even then, and everybody who's lived here longer than a year is acutely aware of this. So out came the sneakers and sweat pants, the dog's leash and little Howard's tricycle, and by eleven the three-mile walkway which circumscribes the lakeshore was crowded with hikers, bikers, dog-walkers and baby-strollers, all smiling, jostling one another politely and somehow never colliding as they navigated the narrow pathway, which is divided by a white line, just like a regular street, so as to accommodate people moving in both directions.

Have you ever noticed that most of us habitually travel a circuit like this in one direction or the other? For me it's always counter-clockwise. Walking the lake the other direction would feel wrong.

The lake was perfectly still and reflective today, since there was no wind. There were no wavelets or turbulence of any kind -- not even a ripple.

A day on Green Lake in pleasant weather is enough to restore one's hope in both humans and the natural world. It's not exactly what's called "Getting back to nature," because the lake's intensely urban setting makes walking it the type of experience I call "nature-lite." But the combination of water and sun and exercise seems to bring out the best in people, and the rarity of such days at this time of year seems to awaken a gentler side of the psyche than is generally elicited by the abrasive and stressful nature of city life.

We're supposed to have the same weather conditions tomorrow as we had today. How convenient, for this winter's break to occur exactly, precisely bookended by the two weekend days, before the darkness and rain descend again on Monday.