Still
The nectarine blush of evening on Mt. Rainier still makes me shake my head in wonder. A stroll through the Pike Place Market still cheers me up, no matter how crowded it is, because the presence of lots of happy tourists means our city’s beloved market is still thriving. The Chinook salmon are still thronging up the ladder at the Ballard Locks, a fact I’m happy to report after my first visit in about twenty years. And I’m still a fan of the word still. Some people think it’s a negative word, that it implies that the opposite is more likely. Still running, at your age? Good for you! But more often, for me, it’s a word that connotes a moment of savoring. Marveling. At something that happens night after night (sunset glow on Rainier) and is still worth stopping to take in. At something that is still true (the Market is a mood-lifter) no matter how much downtown Seattle has changed, or I have changed, since my last meander through the stalls. At something that brilliant engineers built long ago (the fish ladder at the Locks), that is still getting salmon back to their streams to spawn. Salmon know the power of home. And so do we. This year, I feel like my connection to my hometown—Seattle—is not just still strong, it’s stronger. Maybe because I’ve been doing a bit of roots research and learning fun facts such as this one: Turns out my Norwegian great-grandfather lived out his final decade or two in [...]