She's (Almost) Here

Here in the Inland Empire of the Pacific Northwest we have four seasons.  We know this because every kid who moved here from California to go to college raves about them.  We also know this because we have tons of clothing, approximately half of it always in storage, waiting for the next three to six month period of time in which we can wear that pile of sweaters or these shorts.  Most of us have multiple sets of tires for our vehicles, and REI makes more money on our jacket purchases than anything, I'm sure.  I personally have a fleece, a shell, a snow jacket, and two pea coats, and I'm not even that much of jacket person.

Right now, we are in the throes of the beginning of Spring.  All of the other seasons here seem to handle transition just fine, but Spring seems to march to a different drummer.  Summer sneaks up on you, and one day in June you realize that you should probably turn on the air conditioner.  Fall lazily appears in September, quietly shortening your days and turning everything the most beautiful colors.  Winter literally falls from the sky, blanketing everything and making it all quiet like the little old woman who says "hush" in the children's book Goodnight Moon.  But Spring, ah, Spring.  Spring is a defensive, road-weary, feisty traveler, and she feels the need to fight her way onto the scene.  Violent rain and gale-force winds followed by clear skies and sun only to be finished off with drizzle and possibly some hail; each day in this transitional period is a complete toss-up.  Spring is not happy until she has beat Winter's attempts at melodrama with her own soap-opera.  She breaks hearts left and right, leading us on with bits of sunshine and high 50s only to crush us with record-setting precipitation.

There are a few benefits to this season's personality.  As an Oregonian at heart, I love a good rainstorm.  And as a Spokane transplant who now knows what clear skies look like, I love what happens after a rainstorm.  This morning it poured for a couple of hours, then cleared off and was generically gray and windy this afternoon.  When I got up from my nap around six this evening, sunlight was streaming in my window, and as I drove to a friend's house around seven, I noticed a violently beautiful sunset.  The clouds that never seemed to quite leave today were creating the perfect backdrop for the intensely vivid pinks and oranges filling the western corner of the sky.  Spring here in the Inland Empire can be a tough one to love at first; she's a bit rough around the edges.  But as a result, her beauty is true and deep.  There's nothing surface-level about her.  So keep fighting, Spring.  We'll stick with you.  The beauty is worth the pain.