The summer-long string of sunny, perfect weather days that we enjoyed in the Pacific Northwest from June through September is a thing of the past now, replaced -- as we Goretex-wearing inhabitants of course knew would happen -- by the drip-drip of the fall rains.
Oh, and fog!... I must not forget fog! Though it presently happens not to be raining as I look out my windows and type these words, it IS foggy, and I can hear a fog horn coming from the lighthouse on Puget Sound three miles to the north; and a deeper, more symphonic basso horn from a ferry dock three miles to the south.
Not that I’m complaining about the wet weather, mind you. The huge trees and the mosses and ferns that are part of life in my neck of the woods are green byproducts of fall, winter and spring rain and fog. The summer dry weather we experienced this year was actually a little too perfect for my taste.
I walk around the place where we live and I make pictures of raindrops on our clotheslines, or of Tibetan prayer flags hanging from our trees that I suspect are happily drinking in the misty fog, and I feel at peace in this new, damp season.
