Nice try, Seattle, you, sly, seductive minx. 

You know we've been apart for such a long time now, so when we cross paths, you come striding out of Puget Sound wearing those James Bond swim trunks, flashing your glistening pecs and implying that if only we come back you'll always treat us to endless sunny days, blue skies, majestic mountain vistas, and lovely water views. 

Unfortunately for you, I'm no longer that naive twentysomething fresh off the boat and as naive as a baby sea otter. 

Instead, I'm weathered but experienced enough to see right through your false promises.

I know that, should I stay, after a glorious summer and early beautiful fall, come November, you'll slam the iron door shut behind me, lock it with an unbreakable lock, cackle maniacally, and subject me to month after month after month of cold, dreary rain and grey skies.

So sorry, old friend, I'm not falling for your tricks.

Although the forecast next week does look pretty tempting...