Another typical day in Seattle. The windows of the café were streaked with rain, a cold wind blowing in from the bay. Outside was a sea of umbrellas; black, red, polka dot, patterned, rainbow, striped. Coats blew around people’s ankles, and skirts billowed in the wind. Men held onto their briefcases with one hand, the other struggling to keep their umbrella poised above their head. A few bald gentlemen didn’t bother with protection, and walked about in the rain as if it were eighty degrees and sunny. Older women had plastic hairnets covering their heads, or else walked beside their husbands who held an umbrella over their frail shoulders.