As much as I complain about the weather here in Washington during the winter, summer (when it finally arrives) is breathtaking. The weather today was in the mid 70’s, also known as the perfect temperature. The sky could not be more blue, there are no nasty breezes to chill the day, and it’s altogether lovely. It’s kind of a bummer that this perfect weather came on a Monday, when all I can do is stare at it from indoors, but it’s not the end of the world.
In fact, the other nice thing about Washington summers is that the daylight stretches from 6am clear until 9pm. Wes and I seized the day, and our gardening utensils, and escaped outdoors after work today. In the spirit of 4/20, and because we don’t smoke weed, we did the next best thing: We pulled weeds.
I still can’t get over what nice weather does to Washingtonians. All of us kept escaping outside during work today so we could soak up as much sunlight as possible, and we all left work not a minute too late so that we could enjoy it. We’re like sun-starved plants, orienting ourselves toward the sun in an effort to harvest as much energy as possible.
Scientists posit that there’s a higher rate of cancer and multiple sclerosis in Washington state than in any other state because we get so little sunlight (I guess vitamin D is important or something?) It’s possible that living here is hazardous, that the three or four months of lovely weather do not make the rest of the abysmal year of weather worthwhile.
It’s possible, but I think unlikely. I read on MSN the other day that Portland is now the number one suicide city in the nation. When I moved here, I’m pretty sure Seattle held that honor so I’d say things are moving in the right direction. Which is to say south. So watch out, California.
Speaking of my lovely home state, I was talking to my brother last night and he was kvetching that the weather never changes in California, therefore making it boring. I replied that most Washingtonians would vastly prefer boring but nice weather to wondering whether it’s going to snow in the middle of April. Excitement, like milk, gets pretty awful after awhile. Unless you’re like one of those adrenaline junkie people, in which case I guess you’d just have to say that you preferred sour cream to milk.