A Different Perspective

Welcome to my neighborhood, Alki Beach, located at the north end of West Seattle. It is a wonderful place to live, just minutes from downtown Seattle, yet offering the relaxed atmosphere of a beach community. Nearly every day, weather permitting, I walk along the beach and enjoy the ever changing views of sky, water, islands and mountains. Sunny, stormy, placid, moody, always dramatic - I never get tired of the remarkable scenery here.

This is the view from here: the bike path and walking trail in the foreground; the waters of Puget Sound just past the beach; beyond that you see Bainbridge Island; and above it all, the snow-capped Olympic Mountains. If you look closely, you can see a white Washington state ferry in the distance, making the crossing between Bainbridge and downtown Seattle.

I watch these ferries go by every day and pretty much take them for granted. I realized the other day that it had been years since I'd been on one. I decided it was high time to take a little day trip and get a different view of my neighborhood and city - a view from the water.

On Tuesday, I left my house around noon, headed for Coleman Dock in downtown Seattle, hoping to catch the 1:10 boat to Bainbridge. I was surprised and delighted to find that on a sunny, August day, during the height of tourist season, there were short lines at the terminal. I bought my ticket, took my place in the loading area and within a few minutes I was on board and underway.

This ferry, the Tacoma, is one of the largest in the Washington state ferry fleet. It can carry up to 2500 passengers and 200 vehicles. It dwarfs everything else on the water, except for the jumbo cruise ships that operate in summer, carrying passengers to Alaska. It takes about 30 minutes to make the crossing to Bainbridge, which leaves plenty of time to get out of the car and go upstairs to the observation decks for a look around.

There's no better way to view the waterfront than from, well, the waterfront. Here's part of that sweeping view, looking north. You can see the Space Needle in the distance.

Looking even further north, on a very clear day like this, you can see Mt. Baker. This mountain which is part of the Cascade range, is located near the Canadian border.

Arriving at Bainbridge Island, the ferry docks in the little town of Winslow. I got off and headed into the picturesque downtown area to look around and get some lunch.

[Afterward, I stopped at Eagle Harbor Books and bought a copy of their paperback, "From Bad to Verse: Celebrating Three Years of Bainbridge Island Limericks." This book is a compilation of limericks that have been winners in an annual contest sponsored by the bookstore. Being a lover of limericks myself, I had to have a copy. And after sharing the story of my 50th birthday limerick party with members of the bookstore staff, I was encouraged to enter next year's contest. Woohoo! What fun.]

From there, it was back to the car to go check out the views from the southern tip of the island. I have been to the north end many times, mostly to visit Bloedel Reserve, an extraordinary public garden. But this time, I wanted to see my neighborhood from the point of view of being across the water from my daily walks. I left Winslow, and having forgotten to bring a map, I figured I'd just turn left (south) and somehow find my way. And so I did, winding through miles of woods, acres of green, cool and soothing on a hot day. When I came, literally, to the end of the road, I found what I came for -- the view was stunning!

To the left, I could see the low outline of West Seattle. To the right, Blake Island. And straight ahead, in all her glory, magnificent Mt. Rainier. On a different day, I would expect to see West Seattle and Blake Island, but the mountain is elusive. We can go days, often weeks, without a view of it because of weather conditions. Although I've seen Rainier hundreds of times, it is surprisingly easy to forget how big, and how majestic, it is. So when, as we say around here, "the mountain is out," we locals can be just as awestruck as people seeing it for the first time. I stood for a while, taking it all in, feeling like one of the luckiest people on the planet: grateful for the day, for the view, for being in the Northwest and for having the opportunity to hop on a ferry and have this experience. At last, my eyes were full and it was time to head back to the ferry for the trip home.

I arrived at the terminal around 4:30 and again had just a short wait to board. As we are approaching autumn, the days are shorter and the light in late afternoon makes for good photography, so once we were underway, I went up top for more views and photo opportunities.

In a few minutes, we were alongside my Alki Beach neighborhood, the very top of Mt. Rainier visible above the bluff. Nearly every day, from somewhere along that stretch of beach, I look out and see a ferry. On this day, I'm riding a ferry, looking back the other way.

Moments later, we were back in downtown Seattle. Passengers disembarked and we all went our separate ways. As I drove along the beach on my way home, I looked back across the water at the island I'd just left. My splendid, unhurried little getaway had only taken a few hours. But it gave me a fresh perspective on the geography surrounding my neighborhood. As a bonus, I am sure I will never forget the view from the southern tip of Bainbridge Island.

Related post:

An R-Rated Botanical Limerick

Proposed Development Looms Over Olympic Sculpture Park

My favorite installation at Seattle Art Museum's Olympic Sculpture Park is Richard Serra's "Wake." In the photo above, you can see four of the five undulating metal pieces that comprise this sculpture, each 50 feet long and 14 feet high. Walking alongside and between these metal structures, I can almost feel the bow of a ship slicing through water - a thoroughly fitting image for the maritime legacy of Seattle, and for the park itself, perched as it is at the edge of Elliott Bay.

This installation is a photographer's dream, with light and shadow creating shapes that move and extend the form of the sculpture.

For me, this is a thoroughly engaging work of art. But with all due respect to Richard Serra, part of the success of the installation is the way it is situated in the park. As you see in the photo at the top of this post, the unusual round building north of the park, once home to Airborne Express, provides a unique, sculptural backdrop for the "Wake." If you have never been to the park, you need to know that the view you see in the photo is the main approach to this artwork. From the Visitor's Center you walk down a long set of stairs and before you stands the Serra sculpture in the foreground, the AE building in the background.

This is a good example of what we landscape designers call a "borrowed view." That round, bluish building isn't part of the sculpture park, but its size, shape and position enhance the views there all the same. (Another great example of a borrowed view is just to the west of this area, where the Seattle Post-Intelligencer's classic globe, just outside the northwest corner of the park, is a perfect complement.)

OK, now imagine, if you can, that the round, blue, AE building is no longer visible because between it and the park there looms a large, ordinary, rectangular office building. I think you would agree that the view would be forever changed, and not in a good way. And even if you can't visualize that scene, I'm sure you can imagine that the proposal of such a development is creating a controversy.

At the center of this controversy is Martin Selig, owner of the property adjacent to the Sculpture Park and a well-known Seattle developer. Love him or hate him, Selig has left his mark on this city. Perhaps his best known project is the tallest building in Seattle, formerly known as the Columbia Tower. The views from its 76th floor banquet and meeting rooms are utterly spectacular, as is the view from the ladies' room (there's nothing quite like answering nature's call while enjoying a panoramic view of Lake Washington, downtown Bellevue, and, on a clear day, the Cascade Mountains).

To his credit, Selig has not proposed anything for the site next to the sculpture park that comes close to the scale of the Columbia Tower, but he did ask the city to approve a 14-story apartment building, a structure that many agree would be completely out of scale for that site. After meeting with opposition from local residents, and being literally sent back to the drawing board by the city, Selig has changed his plans. He now proposes a 7-story office building, a scaled-down structure to be sure, but still nearly 30 feet taller than zoning allows. Opponents are holding their ground (so to speak), insisting that Selig work within existing zoning requirements. The city's Downtown Design Review Board is scheduled to make a decision on Selig's revised plan on July 27.

While I am eager to hear what the board has to say about the revised plan, I have to say that the person I would be most interested to hear from right now is Richard Serra. Not one to mince words, he told writer Jen Graves in an interview for "The Stranger" just after the "Wake" was installed, that "architects can be a pain in the ass." He describes most American sculpture parks as "parking lots for sculpture." But he was very enthusiastic about the Olympic Sculpture Park. "To have a park that is accessing the language of sculpture is not only rare, it's fucking magnificent," he declared.

Wouldn't you just love to hear what he has to say about this office building?