It’s Seattle. Of course there are bees on a dock in South Lake Union. OF COURSE THERE ARE.

Capitol Hill Seattle’s picture roundup of the vigil for Melrose and Pine. Now’s the time to sit at Bauhaus, have ok-enough coffee, and pass judgment on people walking by – its days are waning as another big, dumb construction project looms.

Maybe you want to support a Kickstarter for the restoration of beautiful color photos (taken on a TLR, ahhhhh) at Pike Place Market from 1966 to 1968? I did. Just $25 for a book!

Bumbershoot: the early years, looks curious like the hippies-and-pirates-filled modern-day festivals. My god, the hideousness that was the original International Fountain, though.

God, I love Bellingham. For a million reasons: this is one of them.

At Wonder and Risk, Evie Caldwell brings you on a literal and figurative detour to the 520 ghost ramp. They promise this is the beginning of a series on disappearing things; I sure hope it is.

In the future, I’m going to be able to drink booze made in my neighborhood on Alaska Airlines flights. I’m actually excited about that. And not just because I like a bit of plane booze now and then.

Lately, I find myself seeing things in other cities (most often Paris, New York, and San Francisco) and thinking, “Why don’t we have something like that???” while seething with jealousy and restraining myself from gnashing my teeth or rending my garments. Here‘s one.

This was a nightmare, of course, but I have a soft spot in my heart for defiant impracticality, and so I’m a little sad its time has passed.

A moment of ambivalence, in the true sense, for all of us whose thoughts drift toward San Francisco sometimes.