Did I mention I got a slight sunburn?

I really do love the seasons here. We never really got them in California. There were basically only two seasons in the Bay Area: Summerfall and Winterspring. Being native, I knew the subtlest shift in the air that meant the arrival of Summerfall and shorts worn with sweatshirts. Winterspring meant rain would pour in buckets every few weeks, closing highway exits and reminding everyone the purpose of the other little lever next to the turn signal on their car’s steering column.

But here in the hinterlands of the Pacific Northwest, we really do get four distinctive seasons. Well, at least as distinctive as I need. We get beautiful leaves in the fall, rain and occasional snow in the winter, blooming bulbs in the spring, and heat and sunburns in the summer. It amazes me every year how one season ends just as I am getting weary of it and its associated wardrobe. I am SO tired right now of wearing my long-sleeved sweaters and t-shirts, my warm socks, and my all-weather black clogs. I long for my sandals and my sunless tanning lotion. And just when I couldn’t stand the grey clouds any longer, SUN!

Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday of this past week were simply spectacular. A minor heat wave parked itself over the Portland area, sending temps into the mid-70s and seemingly every single metro resident outdoors to bask in the glory. Rob and I were several hours east for the weekend but came home a day early so we could enjoy the gift from the weather gods.

As we drove through the Columbia Gorge on Sunday, we noticed the usually ample parking lot for Multnomah Falls was full and traffic for it was backed up onto the highway. A nearby wetlands park was peppered with bare-legged walkers and dogs and bicyclists. The roads were crowded with convertibles shedding their tops for the first time this year. Stark white arms and elbows poked out of rolled down car windows. We stopped at our local grocery store to get two items and discovered we weren’t the only ones planning to grill dinner outside that night. The shelves for the hot dog and hamburger buns were nearly empty.

As Rob and I sat at the edge of our hill that evening, munching on hot dogs and sipping homemade wine, I realized that we used to get gorgeous days in the Bay Area with enough regularity that they became expected. And I took them for granted. I can recall any number of sunny days that I decided to stay inside since, well, it would be sunny tomorrow, too. Here, though, the weather isn’t so predictable. Well, except for the rain. So when the sun comes out, the shared feeling of excitement and joy and playfulness is palpable. It feels bonding in a way, the collective happy sigh of a beautiful spring day. And as much as I would love more sunny, warm days like we had earlier this week, I also love that I now truly appreciate those days when I get them.