A long time ago, eons it seems, I started blogging. It was great, the whole brave new world of Web 2.0 (sounds so antiquated now) was exciting. A little later I started playing around with Flickr, then Facebook, then twitter, then tumblr, then….well, then I started feeling a teensy bit addicted to the constant connection.
What has that got to do with Lincoln Park in West Seattle, you might wonder….good question. In the past couple of years, I’ve tried to stay offline for longer chunks of time now and again. Usually when I find myself mindlessly posting and surfing.
I’m feeling a little bit encouraged that others might be going offline when I see how traffic has dropped on all the usual haunts. This has happened every summer for the last few years, and this year seems to be a banner year for disconnecting. Don’t get me wrong, I still think the Internet machine is cool; I just also think summer is pretty hot, as in awesome,and we should all go where the energy is.
So….I don’t have a lot to say about Lincoln Park because I’m actually out playing in Lincoln Park…and various other parks, campgrounds, lakes, beaches, hiking trails, etc etc. And I pointedly have avoided posting, tweeting, uploading, commenting, or sharing online about most of it.
The fact is we are having the best summer in anyone’s memory up here in Seattle, and I as well as everyone I know can’t get enough of it. So much goodness, I’m starting to feel a little tuckered out by it all, but that won’t stop me from going full throttle till the rains come.
So my project, 52 Weeks of Lincoln Park, has taken a wee hit this summer, but it’s all good, it’s for the best possible reasons: summer this year is drop dead gorgeous.
I’ll close with a few things I’ve noticed and loved in the park the past couple of weeks: how the setting sun hits the coppery bark of the madrones; how everyone and their brothers, cousins, aunts, uncles, seals, osprey, and eagles are out at the point fishing; how the leaves fall on the surface of the Colman pool as you swim down the lane, letting you know in the most poetic way what time of year it is; how the trails are dusty like they get after a season of hard play and warm temps.
So, till the rains start, you’ll find me outside loving every last minute of this fabulous summer.