A clear blue day lighthouse-hunting in Seattle. We wandered into nearby Magnolia, the setting for many Washington-based novels, found vegan pastries and books. Drank sweet coffees. Window shopped. Huge pots of hanging flowers lined the streets. I felt like my grandmother oohing and ahhing at them as we passed.
The beach surrounding West Point was rocky and calm, with Mt. Rainier ever the presence in the distance. People reading and chatting sat on driftwood. Others tanned atop towels and listened to music. It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t hot. I found a shell that looked like angel wings and tucked it into my pocket. It was all very elegant.