I suppose summer isn't officially over for another four weeks, but the leaves have already begun to fall in the Pacific Northwest and I'm feeling ready to get back to the grindstone.
     It didn't really feel like a summer.  Perhaps I had taken too much time off already, or maybe it was the recurring dreams of Mathematica glinting evilly from the computer screen, but somehow I never quite got the relaxation I'd expected. 
    Seattle is a beautiful city when it's sunny...I got plenty of chances to paddle Lake Union and Puget Sound (and see some more bioluminescent critters glowing anxiously in the water) , as well as trudge through pink snowfields and battle the local flies.  Did I mention the flies?  I could not have predicted their voracity--swarms of horseflies eager for hot sweaty flesh buzzing excitedly about every uncovered portion of skin...but I digress. 
    Blackberries.  Acres of giant apricot-sized juice swollen purple stained fruit.  Unlike anything out East, as though cultivated carefully by the months of drizzle to burst in radiant perfection at the end of August.  I spent days with purple fingers and lips, countless seeds stuck in my teeth, and devoted hours to glorious gluttony.
    It was good, overall:  Room service, tequila shots, monopoly, a chocolate chip cookie for breakfast every morning, a king sized bed, and unlimited free coffee.