It rained all day here yesterday. It was cool enough that I spent most of the day wearing a fleece pullover and a stocking cap. It’s raining again today, a gentle, steady rain, what the Navajos call a “Woman Rain.”
It’s beginning to look like summer has passed us by. Normally the weather here is darned-near perfect from mid-July through mid-September, daytime temperatures in the low 80’s, not much humidity, no rain. For those of us who live on the wet, west side of the Cascade Mountains, summer is what saves our sanity. We suck it up through nine months of rain and light deprivation, maintaining a tenuous, by-the-fingernails grip on mental health, hoping that summer will heal us. That’s not happening this year. I fear we will become a region of crazies.
I had to go to shoot in Seattle last Saturday. Leah spent the morning in our small orchard, picking apples. She canned applesauce, and, when I got home Saturday night, treated me to warm apple cobbler and ice cream. It was comfort food.
Who needs summer and sunshine? Not me. There’s still ice cream in the freezer, and Leah has promised to make more cobbler.
