Discretion

Apparently the pandemic really is over since, as it turns out, there actually ARE some rules for acceptable public behavior, at least in the fancier parts of town.

Prior to this latest iteration, we tried to tote up all the instances at which the friendly Fire Department has invited us to move along while extinguishing whatever sort of conflagration of some size around which we’d assembled: there were those two in one night in the heady high days of Christmas tree burning, that one time atop Weathertop thanks to the one-percenters at Canlis, an occasion that I seem to recall also included some law enforcement at Anarchy Point, the one in Laurelhurst that featured only amused cops but no firefighters, and maybe one in Georgetown near the airport that was really just everyone going their separate ways before the authorities actually arrived.

So, maybe this makes seven, which is pretty good, all things considered, in almost twenty years; what good citizens we all are, after all!

Perhaps there will comes a time, and perhaps it’s right on the horizon, when Thursday night shenanigans will go extinct, but in the meantime, they still persist, albeit in reduced numbers, but not, if last night is an indication, in reduced nonsense.

I take that back: cooler heads DID prevail when it came to exercising discretion as to the location of the merry little blaze.  The initial idea to illuminate the most popular tourist destination for observing our fair city’s downtown was eschewed in favor of one just a little more feasible—and it turned out to be just that until some rich person, no doubt, decided that their old-money backyard needed to remain just their backyard rather than one for some interlopers from the flatlands.

But enough was enough, anyway, and given how friendly those big strong men with flashing lights were, and given we were down to coals, anyway, it was the perfect time to exercise discretion and disperse.

Aurora

Just because you can’t see something with the naked eye, doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

And this includes not just celestial phenomena, like those caused by the interaction between electrically charged particles from the sun and Earth's magnetic field, but also intangible concepts like fellowship, adventure, and surprise, all of which are invisibly visible when cranks are cranked and two wheels turn.

The plan was to stay close to light rail, and while an initial proposal to extend the club’s “bounding box” via public transit was eventually discarded due to the prospect of too many disappointed National Football League fans, that particular desideratum was, in fact, adhered to, partly thanks to one of our fair city’s newest pieces of bicycling infrastructure curling under the vast Montlake interchange, just a hop-skip-and-a-jump (or crank-turn and pedal-spin) from the deepest of the Partial Underground’s underground stations.

And speaking of the invisible made apparent (if not visible), here’s another one: Cross-cultural exchange!  

As my father sometimes pointed out (in a probably not entirely culturally-sensitive way), “A billion Chinese couldn’t care less about this or that” (usually something I was whining about according to Dad), but as it turns out, at least forty or so Chinese students from the University of Washington DO care about the aurora borealis and are willing to walk through muddy trails and across rickety metal bridges to get somewhere hoped to be dark enough to see it.

And what’s even more surprising is how many of them were even more delighted to run across an unexpected little bonfire by the side of a lake, especially when it was stoked higher and higher through the addition of liquid plastic.

The flames were visible, but the warmth they inspired just had to be felt.

Apparently, time-lapse photography could render the greens and purple of the aurora on people’s phones, despite one’s eyes not being able to.

Sort of how bikes make possible joy that would otherwise never be seen.