The other night I got lost in Georgetown on my way to west seattle. First I drove through what I thought was a wide 2 inch puddle. Nope. It was a pond. I like to imagine that anyone watching me saw me drive down into it and come up out of another puddle a few yards away. I was so disoriented by the splash that I ended up on the other side of the road frantically turning on my wind shield wipers because the muddy wave that plummeted over me took away all visibility. When my car and I came to, an enormous jet plane roared up in front of me with such a loud blast and such astonishing proximity that I screamed. I continued on through dark streets and up into the hills. I tried using Siri, but no…I do not mean “take a fun tool Roy” when I say “take me to Fauntelroy.” I was ready to cry when suddenly I found myself on a road overlooking rooftops and islands, sunbeams erupting out of the clouds. A teeny ferry was cutting through the grey, juxtaposed against the majesty of it’s backdrop. It ripped the breath right out of me. This measly phone picture doesn’t do it justice. It was as if the beauty of the scene was waylaying me and urging me to find it with puddles and planes. A grand prize for my incoherence.