place: EastvWest

I hope that I never lose the wonder of place.

Going back to Pennsylvania was a great reminder of that. While I lived there, it was beautiful: the seasons, the rolling hills. When I moved to Seattle, particularly my current apartment, I was in shock: This is where we live! I would exclaim on a near-daily basis, amazed by the views, the water, the mountains—things we don’t quite have in Pennsylvania.

This morning, Pickle and I walked out to end of the walking bridge. Mount Rainier was glowing pink and yellow with the sun not yet peaked over the snow. We stood in awe for a moment, trying to take it in. Of course I wished I had my camera, but sometimes, I think not being able to visually document a moment adds just a tinge more appreciation.

This hasn’t quite been the experience of the West I’ve dreamt of my whole life. My ideal West was living in the desert as some hip artist, admiring the vast landscapes, being cool and charismatic in the sun. Instead, I find myself in the center of a city, bustling and busy, and certainly not charismatic. Or hip. I’m still the same uptight young person who wears the same jeans and shirt for three days in a row. Maybe there is something to that.

I like to pretend that I’m down-to-earth or that I have my priorities straight. I’m probably not and probably don’t.

I guess I just thought that the West would be vast and feel so open. Sure, I’ve had that experience driving up and down the state of California, but I somehow thought it would be my everyday.

The East was once described to me as “claustrophobic”. I could see it then; I lived there. You were always enclosed by hills and trees. But city buildings enclose you on a much closer and seemingly taller level. Everything is within walking or biking distance. Even work is only fifteen miles away. So going back to Pennsylvania felt like a return to the open spaces: fields, two lane highways that stretch forever, and naked trees that let you see right through their branches to the next horizon. Driving five miles is like walking one in the city.

So life in the West isn’t what I expected, mostly because I didn’t end up in the West I intended—I went North instead of South. My compass is a little off, and the topography is much changed, and now that we’re in winter, the sun brings more cold than warm.

But the awe is still there.

The strangest part about Pennsylvania, was looking at the horizon in a 360 and not seeing the mountains, the pointy, snowy ones that at first felt like a closed in box but now feel like the walls to my home.