Feeling a little weathered

Let me tell you a little bit about my new home, OlyWa. I will describe it in terms of the weather, which is really all you need to know: It rains. A lot. Every day. Every hour.

I go to bed to the sound of rain against the window, and wake up to the same sound. The rain brushes the city with a broad stroke, making everything — buildings, streets, trees, water, people — a dull, flat, dingy gray. It's not a romantic "soft rain" that makes everything look lush and verdant, like you might experience in Ireland. No, no, these are downpours that are best characterized by the way they fall: heavy, heavier, deluge.

When we first moved here, everybody warned us about the weather. Our first day in town, we went to the Farmer's Market. A friendly farmer who was selling berries told us to go ahead and stock up on Vitamin D and Prozac. I laughed. Oh, you silly man, I thought, I've weathered far worse than the gray days of a Pacific Northwest winter. I was wrong. I've never had to weather this weather.

I take comfort in the fact that this seems to be one of the rainiest winters on record. Yes, it seems that I have arrived just in time for one of the area's nastiest rainy streaks.

And it relieves me to read one Northwester's comment in today's Olympian: “I’ve been living in Washington and Oregon for 35 years, and this is the wettest I’ve ever seen." And another: “This is the worst. I haven’t really changed any routines, but it certainly has a psychological effect on almost everyone. It’s depressing. Every day, you just open the door and it’s the same: The rain is coming down, and it’s gray.”

Depressing? Yes. Bearable? Yes, and I'll tell you why. Every once in a while, the Oly sky clears and turns to blue, and the sun shines on the city. On these days, the city comes alive. Gray washes away, and every other color sparkles. Buildings that I never noticed before suddenly become charming; people seem more animated, buzzing in the streets; the Sound is turquoise and gorgeous, framed by the snow-capped Olympic Mountains; and Rainier is at her most majestic. On a clear day at dusk, the setting sun throws a pinkish cast on Rainier, and she is breathtaking — something that the natives take for granted. At these moments, I believe that this place may be one of the most beautiful on earth.

So really, how I experience the city depends on the weather. On those gloomy days, I am homesick as ever. I miss everything: runs with friends through the Gaslight; coffee talk with my Freaks+Weirdos coworkers (coffee, coffee everywhere, but nary a Tim or Karla in sight); the ever-entertaining company of Sha+Ja; the excess of Indian cuisine on Ludlow; the magic of witnessing a little genius(!) nephew grow up; the list goes on and on. But on those rare sunny occasions, I feel pretty confident that this adventure is going to be pretty spectacular.

There's lots more to tell about this place and our experience thus far, but I'll leave it at that for now. It's time to brave the wind and rain and take Loki for a walk.

I said I would...

Yes, yes, I’ve finally made good on my threat and started a blog. But before I start writing, I feel that I must begin with a disclaimer:

Blogs are self-indulgent and self-centered. They operate on the premise that other people care about what you think, feel and write—even though, in reality, most people do not care what you think, feel or write. I recognize this fact, and I enter the blog-o-sphere with full knowledge of the insignificance of my musings. So be it.

That being said, I can't wait to get started! I’ve decided to start blogging for a few reasons, the most important being the documentation of my newest adventure to Oly, WA. So, friends and family near and far (mostly far), check it out when you’re interested and abandon it when you’re not. I promise nothing except a regular dose of spouting-off.