This year in Seattle, fall arrived with a vengeance. The first college football Saturday came in like a flipped switch, summery skies giving way to clouds, rain, and a howling wind seemingly overnight. It was a swift, brutal transition that forced shorts and tank tops back into storage in favor of jeans, long-sleeve tees and sweatshirts. This procrastinator appreciated the necessary haste of making the switch—no open boxes languishing on the floor waiting to bridge the weather; in go the memories of dinners al fresco against paintbox-exploding sunsets, the smell of saltwater and sunblock and the way sunlight sparkles on Puget Sound; a door closed decisively on summer.
Making a break with the past
