If you know me well you may also know that I’m very sentimental. I pause when I smell something that reminds me of my childhood, like freshly cut grass or the crisp scent of winter. I want to momentarily live in those moments, let the flood of memories rush through before I move on with what I was doing, or even complete whatever thought was going through my mind.

Today is my last day in Seattle, and last night I wanted to see her and live in one of those moments before I officially drove South to my new home in Portland. It’s not like I’ll never come back here, but it’s a different sensation … residing versus visiting … and I wanted to feel it while I was still a part of the city. So I picked her most iconic spot to say my goodbyes: the Space Needle.

I’ve been up the Space Needle several times … too many to remember yet not quite enough to feel like it was enough. It’s the obligatory place to bring family and friends when visiting from out of town, and since it’s only two blocks from my apartment it was a quick trip. My last few days here have been a hectic and frantic frenzy of scheduling movers, packing my gear and also trying to fit in a bit of work in-between. That, and Brian and I are also trying to personalize and beautify our new home in Portland, which we officially owned as of one week ago today. To say I’ve been busy is an understatement.

So I went up the elevator with a few other couples, (my date was my camera strapped across my shoulder), made my way to the outer deck of the Space Needle and started walking in a circle clockwise around the top. I think I made about 20 laps, but I’m not sure … I stopped counting after a dozen or so. While walking I could look out into the city and pinpoint all of the beautiful photography spots I had found with friends. I could see the whole city from there, and with it I saw the timeline of my short one-year affair I had with this beautiful city. I kept walking until the sun went down.

The weather had been pleasant all day and I was hoping to get lucky and see some color in the clouds as the sun set, one last “hurrah!” before I went to my new home. As expected, the sunset went the way of most sunsets here in the PNW … it just faded from gray, to dark gray, and eventually to black. Seattle, you’re so predictable.

I needed that one last moment to reflect, to make sure that I could say goodbye with a clear head. I can even say that I had a few tears roll down my cheek in the process … but then again it was cold, and windy, and I have very sensitive eyes.

Seattle, I’m gonna miss you.