This morning on the way to work I caught a single sunbeam, slipping between the downtown buildings to stab me straight in the eyes at 6th and Clay. It's been so unceasingly cloudy for so long that I'd forgotten why you don't look directly at the sun: it hurts. I also noticed yesterday that I've developed a frightening, bluish pallor normally associated more with slimy underground lifeforms than actual human beings. It's not like I wasn't pale in California; in tan-mandatory Los Angeles I got teased mercilessly and in the multihued Bay Area I was the palest person in the room more often than not. Here everyone is pale by climate and heredity, but I am approaching Palpatine color and put them all to shame. Still: the sun. I put out my best leaves and turned my tiny blind earthworm face to feel it, and I think it did me some good.
People have told me that spring in Portland is stunning, phenomenal, worth every gloomy grey minute of the preceding winter. I've been skeptical, not least because they told me this after leaving Stumptown to move to California. But I finally think I may survive long enough to see if they are right.Posted by dianna at February 7, 2008 04:29 PM