Sunshine Assessment

19fae252855611e39cc2125190cee429_8 Let's assess. It hasn't rained in like, weeks? The days have been sunny in a windy, bone-chilly kinda way, and the nights—especially starry. This makes things like dry-pawed dog walks and skating out of doors all possible. More than possible—probable. But! I'm gonna say something weird right now: I miss the rain.

Here's where I'm at with this:

1) Sunny January days fill me with dread because of a sense (irrational?) that we're stealing sunny days from the tail end of spring. What if for every nice day we get now, there'll be a raw, gray one tacked onto June?! I'll be fragile by June. I'll need summer to start promptly.

2) Weather breaks! See, it’s oddly moving when a long stretch of weather—even if it’s not bothering you none—ceases quietly in the night, and you wake up at dawn to find a fresh situation outside your windowpane, kinda like an old friend you forgot you were missing.

3) We need the water. The gardens are parched. There's no snow on the mountain. The summer is due to be hot and dusty, with ominous red sunsets colored with wild-fire smoke. (Global warming is pretty skeeery, if/when considered seriously.)


Estacada park under golden rays of sun. Photo: Cutright


Saturday Smith grinds on the dry concrete. I like.