Eastward

The question is, would you know it if you didn't know it, know that here in Seattle you're near the western edge of this wide continent?

I always think I can tell — something in the quality of the light or the casualness of the architecture or the philosophies of the people. 

But it's probably just what I overlay on the place, based on visits and attitudes (dreams) about the West Coast I've had since I was as a kid. 

This afternoon I fly home, take the eastward journey, which is often faster. It's the prevailing westerlies that make it so, but today I think it will be the magnet of home pulling me back where I belong.