29 degrees and 6:20 AM reported the bank’s neon sign as I glided down the dark sidewalk. No more running late for me. My bus didn’t leave til 6:45. The double length bus dropped me in the Seattle’s international district tunnel. I emerged to hear seagulls and enjoy a cold cloudy sunrise behind the elaborate gates to Chinatown. My northbound train claimed the precarious edge of mainland Washington treating its passengers to views of Puget sound’s cold ripples inching towards the untamed snowy Olympica peaks.
If you minitiarize Seattle, remove all chain stores and most cars, and infuse true friendliness into the inhabitants, you’ll get the Fairhaven district of Bellingham. I knew all this but was still surprised when my bike landed me in front of my waterfront hotel in less than 5 minutes and the hotel host cheerfully prattled on about never owning a car. The christmas tree, roaring fire and beckoning spa distracted me from the main purpose of the trip: Emily June Hanson.
Beautiful even in her sloppy clothes, Emily hugged me in the plaza outside WWU performing arts center at 4 PM. “Come with me,” she coaxed,” I just need to change into concert clothes and practice this one piece I haven’t looked at lately.” We proceeded to her dorm room where Emily socialized with each of her 3 suite mates, carefully assembled her professional black attire and offered me snacks. By the time we hit the practice room, we had 20 minutes til the 5 pm performance time. On her apocalyptica metallica piece for 4 celli, Emily noticed she’d been playing one note wrong. She fixed that, went on to polish a couple of spots and seemed relaxed when she packed up at 5 to head to the recital hall.
Why had the cello prof saved Emily’s pieces for last? Talented musicians playing shostakovich and dvorak went before Emily’s Brahms sonata for piano and cello. Emily’s siky tone was new. Her cello swerved unfaltering through the sonata unperturbed by irregularities from her new accompanist. She easily reminded me why this is my favorite piece. In the metallica piece, all the 4 cellists lacked was electricity and amps. Hard rock suddenly seemed a natural domain for their instrument.
Today’s bike ride took me along the dark waterfront near my hotel. Taking a long pier smooth as carpet, I was alert- bike trails often end abruptly and I didn’t want a cold swim. To my great surprise, the dock segued smoothly into a bike trail. Like the rest of the trip, the path was silk.
I want to go there with you. Do we have to take bikes? I will come to Washington in May. Spring time must be more beautiful than winter.
ReplyDeleteIn between the train station and the hotel, there's a bike rental shop. Also, it's easy to bring bikes. But walking is a perfectly good alternative so bikes aren't necessary. I'm so glad you want to come. Rafi should come with you and maybe we can convince him to stay longer than you but I doubt it. Tell me the dates that work for you. Joe Hanson is getting married in Austen May 30th.
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