When I first visited Seattle for a reasonable length of time – about three weeks, as I recall – it lived down to its reputation of having weather similar to Ireland. The sky was heavily overcast and gray every day, and it seemed to rain an ungodly amount. However, to be fair, it was winter; so why I expected anything better is a good question – except that I was supposed to be on vacation, as well as scouting out the area. Why did I pick that time of year? I have no idea, but I was probably between projects.
That soggy visit was some years back, and now I regard Seattle’s weather with equanimity. Firstly, with Global Warming frying most of this nation ever summer, I am increasingly cognizant of the merits of rain; and secondly, I have learned to appreciate the general mildness of the climate, and the fact the weather in the summer can be extremely pleasant, with clear clue skies being vastly more common than in Ireland – and that country’s notorious damp chill being agreeably absent. In fact, I have had all my sliding doors open around the clock since May (possible because I live on the sixth floor of a fairly secure building); and haven’t gone down with pneumonia as yet – which would certainly be the case if I was back in Dublin.
These days, as I strip away as much as possible unless it relates to writing, I find my mood is much more influenced by how my writing is going than whether there are clouds in the sky. Nonetheless, it is hard not to appreciate our recent run of near cloudless days, leavened by a tinge of autumn, and capped by some truly spectacular sunsets.
Indeed, today is yet another such day.