I will miss being on the water early in the morning, even if only as a passenger onboard a ferry. I’ll miss watching the gulls flock after schools of baitfish and the cormorants fishing in line abreast and the river otter that sometimes scampers over the breakwater at low tide. I’ll miss walking through the village with the mist clinging to the trees and sunrise over the Cascades and the blinding path of the sun across the water. I’ll miss the tugs with their tows on a short hawser often times queued three deep in the shipping channel. And I’ll miss running down Puget Sound between mountains piled on either side by unimaginable forces over geologic time.
There is a cost for every decision. Sometimes the cost is obvious. Taking a studio apartment in the city, my wife and I will each recover three hours every work day that would otherwise be spent commuting across the sound. Living in Belltown, we’ll be close to the Seattle’s main library, theaters, bookstores, and the excitement of the city. Keeping the house in Kingston, we can always return to the quiet of a coastal village on our days off although our days off now rarely coincide.
But I will not be able to count the flashes of the light at West Point each morning or see the breathtaking view of the city emerge from the water as we round the point.
It feels like I’m leaving something behind.