"When the uniqueness of a place sings to us like a melody, then we will know, at last, what it means to be at home."
- Paul Gruchow
Suffices to say there were perfectly valid reasons why a whole-family allocation was reserved for the rare family visit to Tennessee or Minnesota, or the occasional funeral that beckoned attendance from my papa, the sole scion of the Strawn-Family line.
I loved the food we'd have presented to us. I loved listening to accents change, and dialects take "bubbler" to replace it with "drinking fountain,""soda" with "pop," and "you" with "y'all." I loved how the air smelled different, the light looked different, and the air felt different.
I just loved it.
After graduating high-school, I took the summer off to enjoy a little freedom, and then jumped into the workforce, eventually landing myself a consulting job in Madison, WI. It was a great job, and a really great town. My family was a few hours away, and I had promising prospects for promotion. Things seemed on-track.
Then I looked down the road, peering into the future.
I noticed the professional trajectory that I was on, and it was one that would lead me to places devoid of my passions. It was time to change.
So I finally moved to the Northwest.
That said, my parents mentioned once that if we ever did embark on a long-distance vacation, they would be sure to steer clear of the Pacific Northwest. Why? Because they knew their tree-hugging, mountain-climbing, water-loving son would never leave, if he had the chance to taste it.
I was dazzled. I was enamored.
I was home.
Visiting my parents in Wisconsin is a blessing and a joy (honest! Sure, they may be reading, but it's true, I love to see them and spend time with them. They make it worthwhile). My family's home is reliably wherever they happen to be.
The Pacific Northwest, however, has been MY home. More than any other geographic location I've been to, this region feels more like an embrace by the land.
I've been no place like it. Traveling tales of more the experienced world-wanderers has also affirmed this notion: There is no place quite like the Pacific Northwest.
And so I will miss it. I will miss the small-town with skyscrapers that is my Seattle. I will miss weaving through the flurry of Pike Place Market on weekends, smelling the oven vents of Piroshki-Piroshki's Pastries and sampling the fresh-roasted hazelnuts. I will miss the splendid merger of nature and concrete jungle in Freeway Park and the city's arboretum. I will miss the incessant aroma of fresh-brewed coffee wafting from every other building, and the complete circle of mountains barricading the horizon, Mt Rainier's majestic present at the helm. I will miss the colors of the flora, the 10:30PM sunsets, the boat-bedecked water-ways, the concrete river of I-5, splitting the city in two, the basking locals in Cal Anderson field, and the sun breaking dawn over the Cascades' serrated tops.
But there is more to see, more to do, more to experience and grow from.
It's time to explore the world. It's time to make it better.
The clock is ticking...
There is more to see than a post has room for!
Click the links and take a gander at our internal gallery or Instagram account!
LOVE it? Visit Daniel's store here!
Follow us! Like us! Come with us!