Private Cities IV (after Italo Calvino)

Seattle is a group of islands connected by dozens of metallic bridges. Around these islands the water is transparent, salty and sweet. Sea lions play on the rocks. They stink.
In the horizon one can see snowy mountains. Some streets are so steep, people have to climb them. There automatic cars can show what they're worth.
Wooden houses are built on top of the hills, perched over the canyons. In between the houses, gardens grow semi-wildly, rooting the houses in place. There are thousands of flowers. Bikers pass by, always smiling.
Babies swim with their mothers on Sundays, just after the Baptists have sung their Gospels.
People walk in flip-flops. They are very kind. Specially at the supermarkets. There food is sprayed constantly, so it shines.
There are coffee shops at every corner. One can drink coffee at anytime. Actually, everybody is drinking something all the time.
Big fishes shine on windows. Bears cross the street when you're not looking. And whales migrate constantly.