But after a few years on the east coast, I have to be honest; I think you’re all living with Stockholm syndrome.
In Oregon, sure, it rains in the winter. Mostly it’s grey. But I never once owned an umbrella, and looking back I realize that the missive, “If you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes” is repeated more often than any complaint.
Here, folks complain all year long, but when it comes down to it, their suffering goes so much deeper than any silly complaint. They’ve grown to love those bastard seasons that hold them captive.
The truth is, the seasons are downright awful. Winter waits like an angry henchman, ready to scald your face with its biting wind just for walking to your car. Or – if you’re lucky enough to have a garage – maybe you don’t have to see winter at all. Just one cup of hot cocoa and a blanket to the next… doughnut holes in hand. We’ll all work the winter weight off once it’s over, right?
Then summer… with its mind-numbing heat and humidity, enough to drive most folks out of the city or at least to the nearest pool (which I’ll admit, isn’t so terribly bad…).
The most common refrain among those who hate the winter less than I? Just wait, soon it’ll be summer and you’ll be miserable in the heat. Which is true, because most years spring and fall don’t amount to more than a week and a wink as they pass us all by.
Truth be told, I don’t mind the summer so much… I’ve gotten used to the humidity, and I even look forward to those warm summer nights. But I’m pretty sure that’s just a sign that I’m becoming one of you.
But the surest sign of my oncoming insanity is that I wholeheartedly live for the spring. Allergies be damned, there is nothing – nothing – like the thaw, when the whole world comes back to life.
On Saturday, Mark and I found ourselves at the lake, quite literally in the middle of the thaw. The rain had fallen for days, melting the last bits of snow and working hard to melt the frozen lake, resulting in a morning that felt more like Oregon than any I’ve had since my departure, and I felt at home.
… but maybe that’s just it. Home is what’s familiar. I love the rain, the fog, the grey… it makes my heart ache to miss it.
But at least if I have to be far from what’s familiar, the seasons put on a good show.