Twitterpation

I think I'm in love with Twitter. Not I-want-to-marry-you love, but the I've-found-Twitter-to-fit-into-my-life-with-near-perfection love. I like sharing tidbits and anecdotes with a crowd (which is odd since I also consider myself to be an extroverted introvert). Twitter brings a sprinkling of life to my computer. I find myself looking forward to making, and reading, my first Tweet of each day. As my coffee perks and I ready for my day, somewhere deep within my synapses I find myself looking for a little gem; something I'll later share with a pleasant posse of Twitter followers.

Interaction with others is a magic elixir for me. I've said before, and mean when I say, that I may have the best job in Seattle. Not because of fun perks and adventurous fact-seeking missions, but because of my daily interactions with the world. A call from Seattle-focused Bostonians seeking information on our city brings giddiness as I pare down precise interests and desires. A foodie? I'm delighted to share a few of my favorite gems in and around this city. An outdoorsman? I know they'll think of my story of misty-hiking as they climb the butt-busting trail to Comet Falls. The punky looking 20-something neighbors from the bay area taking their $39-Virgin-Air-to-Seattle mancation? They came asking where the closest Sprint store was located - they left after 15-minutes with a pocket-full-of-Ann. They're ready to see the city with the sage-like hints I'd passed on. I once thought it was a love of power that made me enjoy these interactions, but I've come to learn that it's not that at all; it's an intrinsic need to share what I know with others to enhance their experience. It's an insatiable desire to help.

This is why I love Twitter. At any moment I can find answer-seekers within my realm. I can share wisdom, experiences and Twitter smiles. I can make a day a little better, or make a week downright perfect for someone else. If that's not Twitterpation, I don't know what is.

The Seattle Chill

I welcome October's imminent chill each year. Contrary to popular belief, we receive a healthy dose of sunshine during the summer months in Seattle (maybe this is a stretch - should I say we usually receive this?!). Regardless, after long summer months filled with crisp blue skies, my classically-tan arms seem to yearn for something less warm. It's at this time - during the long, warm days of August - I embrace my inner-giddiness in outwardly welcoming fall's crisp mornings and sloggy afternoons.

Perhaps it's the changes I see in my environment that lead me to this love of fall: sun-scorched lawns find renewed green. Brilliant green vine maples begin their subtle transition to surreal reds. Birds whose chirping seems to wane after summer's endless sun, re-emerge to party in fall's crisp air. I, on the other hand, happily shiver while walking (still sans jacket) to my morning bus stop, but with a secret smile of satisfaction in knowing that the afternoon home-bound walk will likely bring temperatures needing not a wrap nor a peeling of layers. I love fall's perfection!

Seattle itself hosts such an abundance of parks and greenbelts to enjoy fall's color. Unlike other cities and states where falls colors brings swarms of visitors, Seattle (and the northwest) are more subtle in their 'advertising'. Perhaps the colors and beauty aren't shouted from every mountaintop, but they remain yet another Seattle surprise.

A drive through the Washington Park Arboretum on the city's eastern flank may not be the rolling hills of Vermont, but stop - park - and walk through this in-city gem and gawk at alder, hemlock, Japanese maple and mountain ash with more variety and color than a full set of crayolas.

Continue out the northern end of the park and wind your way around to the campus of the University of Washington where century-old maples frame well-rounded architectural styles. Wander the southeast corner (north of the Evergreen Point Floating Bridge) behind the Museum of History of Industry to take in various ground-hugging northwest varietals while walking Marsh Island's planks and boardwalks. (Watch for the occasional log-laying turtle absorbing last bits of the season's sun for their long, cool winter). Neighborhoods north of the campus bring you through winding neighborhood roads nestled in trees-aflame (offset beautifully by local coniferous evergreens).

Haven't had enough? Go west! West to Discovery Park, that is. This 520+ acre wilderness park (within the city's limits) boasts alder, hemlock, salal, vine maple and ash that'll literally knock your socks off come fall-color time. Park at the visitor center and walk the miles of hiking trails within the park (not to mention over 75 varieties of birds making the park their home!).

While the city and it's surrounds offer an abundance of fall color, if you're looking for more you needn't head out of the northwest. My favorite drive? A portion of the 'Cascade Loop' heading due-east into the Cascade Mountains. Begin your drive heading east on Hwy 2 - winding through charming towns and rural farmlands, you'll find yourself gaining elevation as you climb Stevens Pass. The mountainsides are ablaze with chartreuse and crimson huckleberry bushes, sprinkled with a contrasting dose of vine maple. While miles from Seattle, within a few hours you'll find yourself on the eastern slopes of the Cascades ready to be welcomed by the charming, Bavarian town of Leavenworth. Stop for lunch, or continue to the highway 97 cutoff for more mountains and color on Blewett Pass (beginning to circle-back to return to Seattle). Larch and sub-alpine are abundant on this 4,000+ foot mountain pass. Continue the loop through open rangelands flanked by high peaks and thick evergreen forests while returning to the city via Interstate 90. Small towns, each worth a stop for varying reasons, dot the highway before winding up 3,000-foot Snoqualmie Pass before the 45-minute cruise back into the city.

Embrace the changes in and around our city as Fall is finally upon us.

Arboretum maps and information: http://depts.washington.edu/wpa/hilights.htm

Discovery Park trails and maps: http://www.seattle.gov/parks/trails_detail.asp?id=310

Birds of Discovery Park: http://www.seattle.gov/parks/Environment/DiscoveryParkBirds.pdf

Leavenworth travel and tourism information: www.leavenworth.org

More on the Cascade Loop Scenic Highway: www.cascadeloop.com

Goodbye Best Friend

On that cold, pre-Christmas day 6 years ago I knew the moment I saw the shivering English Setter in the back of the Eastgate Humane Society's kennel that he and I would be friends. Among a sea of barking, whining agitated dogs, he quietly and patiently sat - as if waiting for my arrival.

I hadn't planned on finding a new dog yet. It'd been less than six months since I'd sat with my German Shepherd, Buddy, as he took his last breath amidst our summer-lush backyard. Within the hardy fuchsias and blossoming gladiolas he left to chase an endless supply of squirrels in the doggie great-beyond.

My trip initially was for holiday trimmings. My 12-year-old son and I hopped in our SUV that morning heading out for tree-farms unknown east of the city. However as we exited the city in morning's still-early night, I must have subconsciously noted the Human Society's sign to my left, and without hesitation (or intent, for that matter), my gas-guzzling four-wheeler made a line directly for the Center's parking lot. We wandered in among kennels of the sad, the hyper and the loud - and found amongst this canine sea a beacon of sweetness: Baker. The papers clipped outside his cell told a story of a dog who was loved, but given up - not once, but twice. "Friendly, sweet and loving" were traits I needn't read, but could see in his eyes. "Cat friendly" was the icing on the canine cake! A part of me had to wonder if it'd been luck or timing that had brought him in just the night before, and me on this morning. Once introduced officially by Center staff, I new Baker and I would fit well together.

Baker's first trip to see 'Dr. Jim' (the vet) was uneventful ("All's well with this pup!"), but memorable. Maybe Dr. Jim told all of his patients that he'd "never seen a dog bond so quickly and thoroughly with an owner" before, but I certainly felt he was sincere in noting what I deeply felt.

After just a month with my new best friend Baker, I felt a need to try to connect with his previous owner. My pile of papers from the Human Society, even those from his AKC registration, of course left out details of this. My thought immediately turned to the 'Rant and Rave' section of the local newspaper. Within moments my rave was crafted: 'To the selfless previous-owner of Baker, the English Setter: I'm sure it was a difficult decision for you to give him up, but thank you! He is the perfect addition to our family.' Within the week this was printed in the paper (and of course immediately posted on my fridge). Some part of me knew those who had shared Baker's earlier life would see this and smile.

After six years and endless hours of side-by-side walks, beach-side frivolity, attentive squirrel-chasing and odd eating habits gone (ever known a dog to refuse meat?), I spent the day reflecting on a life with Baker, and what a life without him would bring. I poured through photos of energy, fun, envy and smiles as I remembered what love my best-friend had brought to me. These memories gave me the strength to sit with Baker as I said my finally 'goodnight'. His ear became the first thing my tears touched as he took his final breath. Through celebration, divorce, sickness and mourning Baker was my constant friend: his tail-wagging greeting at day's end, as if having pined-away for me through the day, brought happiness to me even after the most difficult of days.

I'll have another best friend, but I'll never find another Baker.