The streets of Capitol Hill, in the warm, summer season are well-lit by the light of day. Nine in the evening looks like the middle of day. Restaurant windows and doors wide-open, patrons fill the seats on the patio tables and chairs. Friends, acquaintances, family and strangers sharing a picturesque view of life. Bread and wine, being broken.
An artist sits on the sidewalk across the street, paintbrush in hand, his canvas a block of wood. He peers across the street, mentally takes a snapshot of the cafe, translates the picture in his head and his hand interprets with various strokes of color. An eventual permanent imprint of this moment in life.
The sun sets in the west, although it's almost ten p.m. A couple walks by, hand-in-hand, smiling, happy, visibly in love. Their definition of love. A stroll down the street with a steep decline to a coffeeshop. Around many people but alone. Alone but not lonely. Observing, listening, learning. A summer of discovery.
Boats docked, children playing, friends cheering. Homes and apartments on the hills surround the lake with patios filled with talking and laughter. Lake Union aglow with reflections from the fireworks. A patriotic holiday celebrated.
The sky finally black, lit up artificially. On a warm summer night, in the Emerald City. Two friends, far from home, experiencing the moment together. Talking, laughing, crying, growing. What a summer of discovery.