an aspect of the northwest i have yet to embrace is the vivid time change. we plunge into darkness during the four o’clock hour. dark commutes meet constant rain and i find myself sitting, motionless on a bridge. eight miles slowly become 60 minutes. last night i sat on that bridge, as reports poured in of a denser darkness engulfing millions of brazilians.
these past few weeks there has been darkness of a different kind. 13 dead at fort hood. rising death tolls in el salvador, vietnam and the philippines. a massively deadly car bomb in pakistan. a seattle police officer gunned down on halloween just blocks from our apartment.
last night i found myself focused on the execution of john allen muhammad. throughout the day i had constantly thought about what this partial ending to another dark episode would mean. sitting in traffic i heard his time of death pronounced. 9:11 pm eastern time. i was relieved. surprised by my relief as 23-hundred miles and seven years separated me. relieved in a bizarre way that maybe only those who lived through the dc sniper shootings of 2002 could be.