We were out late, uncharacteristically late. Considering that it stays light these days until about 10:15, you can see how we were up past our bedtime, that balmy night. And we were in Seattle, a place we visit more often in the daylight hours. We’d just missed the ferry we wanted to be on, had to wait 45 minutes for the next one. We got ready to whine and pout, but hey, it was a beautiful night, soft and almost-warm for once, inviting us out onto the pier. The ferry, coming in at night, always looks to me like a wedding cake.
We looked down into the water but there were no moon jellies; the water must still be too cold. The gulls were circling Ivar’s hopefully, even though most of the French fry-proffering tourists had gone back to their hotels for the night. Shel pulled out his cellphone and snapped these pictures.
The city has just allowed an enormous Ferris wheel to be constructed on the waterfront. 200 feet high with a diameter of 175 feet and 42 gondolas, it’s huge beyond imagining. I expected to hate it, but found it surprisingly lovely in the dark. Maybe it’s like babies being cutest when they’re asleep, I don’t know, but it’s actually not the monstrosity I’d feared.
Staying up late like Big Grownups, yes we can. Normally I’m more like the chickens in my habits, early to bed, early to rise, but this shows me what I’m missing. That play of dark and light that lends to the mysterious near-invisibility of everyday objects an air of the romantic. You’re never getting me on a 200 foot high Ferris wheel, though.French Letters Visits America comment below, or link to this permanent URL from your own site.