Solstice in West Seattle

There were 75, maybe 100 people in the Solstice Park waiting to see the sun set. I’ve never seen this many people here, but also, I can’t remember the last time the sky was cloud free on the solstice. The day had been perfect so it wasn’t surprising that the neighborhood — and some folks from other parts of the city — came here to mark the arrival of summer.

The park feels like a discovery even when you don’t have it to yourself. To reach it, you walk up through the Fauntleroy community garden (behind the tennis courts) or down a not very well marked staircase on 44th. It’s a favorite location for teenagers who are up to passive kinds of no good; I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve seen groups of kids whose smiling faces belie their affected punk rock outfits. (Hey, kids, let that buzz wear off before you drive home, okay? Also, pro tip? Chewing gum is not enough to cover the smell. And dude, it IS a beautiful evening, you are so right.)

The park is on a plateau over a sloping meadow. There’s a huge earthwork sundial, our own personal Stonehenge. There are three markers on the west side of dial: summer solstice, equinox, and winter solstice. Opposite each marker, there’s a channel created by mounds of grass covered earth. If you stand on the marker at sunset, your shadow runs right into the channel, or, alternatively, if you stand at the end of the channel, you can look through it and the sun will drop right in before it disappears below the curve of the earth.

On this solstice, the random collection of neighbors and pot smoking teenagers was augmented by Seattle space nerds. They came for a talk by Alice Enevoldsen about what, exactly, a solstice is — on a planetary level. Alice had a sidekick, Dave Dorais from Seattle Astronomy, who was covered in NASA bling. Dave set up his telescope on a picnic bench so we could take turns looking at the sun. “It’s got a solar filter on it,” he said, “but sorry, no sun spots, it’s just a big white ball.” When I looked, it wasn’t white, it was a glorious melony orange, moving fast across the lens as it transited the sky.

Alice and Dave are both Solar System Ambassadors for NASA — “Coolest job title EVER!” said Alice. Immediately after sunset, I rushed home to find out what, exactly, one must do to become a Solar System Ambassador. It looks as though saying “Whoa, space is cool and astronauts are better than ANYONE,” is not quite enough. That does not change the fact that I would like an ambassadorship and possibly a sash with medals. It also does not change the fact that I may refer to Solstice Park as the Solar System Consulate from this day forward.

Seattle becomes a perfect city in the summertime. We are all so grateful to be out of our houses in the sunshine, the days are long and rarely too hot, and though the solstice does mark the time when the days shorten, it feels like the long summer nights are in endless supply. Traveling is so much a part of who I am that it must be in my DNA, but when summer comes, there is nowhere I would rather be.