I could nearly kick myself as I utter the words: “Why is it still so warm?” I never thought as a webbed-between-the-toes Northwesterner that I’d ever long for cooler days and endless drizzle. But here I am. It’s early October and it feels like July! Sure, a few leaves are dropping from the birch in my backyard, but we’re nearing a record in Seattle: 76 days of the driest days on record. Yup! Our soggy, bring-your-umbrella city is gasping for rain!
My rain boots sit, unworn, by the front door – envious that my Keen sandals have seen more foot-time this Fall than they may see before Thanksgiving. It is such a shame as I cannot wait to get a chance to wear them! I spent such a long time looking at different rain boots online until I found the perfect pair. My raincoat is also still mothballed from early Spring. I have to wonder what this city could become if this were to become the norm.
Swimming in October? My daughter’s still flopping about in Lake Washington on a regular basis, while pumpkins are on sale at Whole Foods. The dogs still willingly frolic into the yard in the morning; stark contrast to the wimpy pups they become when rain appears and they hug the side of the house looking for dry spots for leg-lifting.
I’m becoming spoiled. As I walk to my bus each morning, rather than bemoaning Fall’s drizzle and accepting the inevitable doom that follows in November, I relish each morning the brilliance of sunrises, the stamina of neighboring gardens and my ability to leave for work without a jacket. (Gasp!)
And oh, the sunsets! Something about crisper evenings and late day clouds make for some of the most spectacular sunsets I’ve ever seen. It must have to do with the angle of the sun, or planetary alignment or something, but I swear the sunsets we’ve seen this year have set the bar at a whole new level.
But deep down inside I’m keeping a secret: A wish for Fall rains and dark skies. Yes, I’ve loved this never-ending summer, but I realize the change in the seasons is an expectation of mine sure as the sun falls each night. Without the rain my lawn slowly browns (it just doesn’t seem right to pull out a sprinkler and water in October). The streets look bare without their usual rain-soaked sheen. And I’m missing the smell of wet-dog after our morning walks.
As another sun rises to another blue-skied day, I think I’ll go sit out on the patio with a cup of coffee in hand and ponder it a little longer. Without a jacket.