My son and I walk a lot through the neighborhood. One day, we strolled past an old building with a blend of vines cascading down. The ivy twists its way up, conferring a regalness to an otherwise nondescript building. A thick stalk of blackberry descends from some unseen source, spikes jutting out to guard something unseen. The structure emanates an aura of wisdom – the secrets discovered inside over the years are reflected in nature’s approving embrace. This whimsy is not something I feel lifting my heart often as I wade through Seattle, a relatively new city with an ever-increasing ratio of tech money to culture. The magic of the land, of the past, and of the unknown is drifting away.