I left Olympic National Park, ready to make my way toward Seattle and the port from which I leave for Alaska. Bainbridge Island, Washington, covered in pine forests, lay misty in the rain as we drove through its darkening streets. I arrived at the ferry at dark. From the observation deck, I watched the approach of Seattle, leaving behind the silent, dark islands of the Olympic Peninsula for the twinkling, almost magical lights of the city. The Space Needle rose strikingly from the cityscape, the lights gleaming out over the water. Seeing the city like that, so quiet from a distance, twinkling over the dark waters, lent it the appearance of a fairy city, a magical citadel in the forest.