The Realities of Rain Here

Wow – what a downpour this afternoon! A real, unexpected soaker rather than the pitter-patter typical of this place.

Waking up to a rainy day isn’t the norm during the summertime here, so for most people (especially those who grew up in the Northwest) it is a welcome break from all that sunshine – a time that feels calm and nudges you to pull out a book you love.

Not for me. Northwest weather has caused me to lose a spring in my head, and this past winter – winter is the term I use for the 6 to 7 months of drizzly rain and nuttily relentless permagray we have from November-ish to June-ish – was the first time I lost motivation completely in the 11 years we have lived on Orcas. I had no drive whatsoever – to cook, to clean, to write, to create, to do the online workout I usually love when it’s gloomy. It was the first time I had to push through. When the sun finally came out, I was a motivated madman. That’s when I knew conclusively that it wasn’t a mid-life crisis or a near-50 life phase. It was a lack of light.

Living on Orcas has caused some weird stuff in me. When the sun is out, I don’t want to be in my house. At all. I want to be active. (Well, also because our house turns into a cave every day at 2 PM due to the forest shading the sun. While our neighbors are bathed in sunlight on their deck until evening, I’m often wrapped in a blanket with the disc heater pointing at my legs as I do the dishes.) I want to be at the lake ALL DAY LONG. I want to soak up every last little minute of light the day offers because I know all too well that at a certain point in the fall, bright daylight will go away for the most part. Maybe there will be a very odd day of sunshine here and there, but it won’t last. Some locals say the weather is fine. They are fine with it because they grew up with it and it is their norm, or they shoveled deep snow every winter in Janesville, Wisconsin, or they have no interest in being active outside through the seasons.

I like to tell myself to hold on until March, but when March comes around each year, I realize I’ve been idealizing things. Hold on till April. No. April showers do bring flowers, but they are showers nonetheless. Make it to May. May is usually pretty good here. Unless it isn’t. When June rolls around, you never know if the sun will hold when it comes out or if you have only made it to Junuary. Here, people say over and over that if you can make it to the 4th of July, you’re set. The sunshine sticks and the lake days are on. Well, until August when the kids go back to school. Two “whole” months of sunshine and then the air begins to change as the seasons shift toward fall.

If you are a local who loves the permagray, discard this article from your evening reading. You will not enjoy any more complaint and you’ll mumble to yourself, “then why do you stay here?” If you are a visitor, especially from somewhere like California, Arizona, or Texas, this little drizzly day is no big deal and you may in fact be pondering investing in some real estate after enjoying umpteen lake days followed by a nice, cool respite to cozy up to a fire and drink some cocoa.

I grew up with relentless sun – Dallas until 11 and the Central Coast of California until I was 38. It’s one of the reasons we moved here – finally some seasons! It’s boring having blue sky and sunshine every day of your life.

Well, those long, gray winters finally loosened that spring in my head. Can I be okay with a half-year lack of motivation every year? Can I deal with being internal that long and seeing very few people out being external when I’m being active? Am I okay with getting older before my time and fizzling out of mental peppiness and physical fitness?

Something I wonder is this. Do people who only know the Northwest know what they’re missing? Are there some folks out there who are eternally unmotivated and don’t even realize it because that’s all they know? I know there are some folks who are plenty motivated because they grew up working through all the elements and they relish the weather here. But I’d be willing to bet there is a contingent that doesn’t even know that the blah they feel doesn’t have to be how they are. In fact, I have a person in my head right now that I would bet a hundred bucks he thinks he’s just gotta deal with the perma-flatlining he feels on a daily basis, unaware that that’s not how brains feel in places like the ones where I grew up. Sunshine is a BIG deal for the brain, for motivation, for feeling alive and happy and snappy and zesty. I felt snappy and zesty every day of my life until I experienced half-year upon half-year of gray here. Lively and snappy and zesty turns to mellow, “chill,” and eventually blah, which is nice for the duration of a long rainstorm any other place but not for half a year, every year here.

Rain and overall gloom are not exciting motivators for being active, either. I love being active – walking and biking everywhere, seeing others walking and running and biking and doing watersports, and being in a community of people who appreciate being out in the elements. I still go out everyday in the rain and gray skies of November to June, but it’s not like the me of living in sunny places. The me I’m accustomed to in sunny places doesn’t spend much time indoors unless I have to make a meal. I lived outside for many jobs, as a bike tour leader, a river guide, etc. The Northwest winter me has to force myself to stay out a few hours each day just to make sure I fit in my shorts by summertime. The Northwest me puts Sun-In in her hair now and then because she needs a glint of light somewhere in the day. Vanity hasn’t ever been my activity motivator in the past, and it isn’t what I ever aspire for it to be, yet that’s what’s happening.

And what am I doing right now? Not e-biking over the undulating hills of the island or swimming across the lake like the other days. I’m sitting at the kitchen table typing. Sunshine motivates people to be outside in that golden light. Rain pushes people inside.

Don’t even get me started on what that means for kids and teenagers who, these days, are already pulled to every technological device in their midst. Do you know how many weekends it rained this past winter? Almost every single one. Were we out hiking? No. Were we playing frisbee at the park? No. They’ve done that their whole lives and now, older, they think of indoor things they’d like to do. Like borrowing my phone and computer, if I didn’t heavily police it. I’m not interested in allowing my kids to be on devices for hours and hours a day. We have a 1-hour summer allowance for our 13-year-old’s daily computer time. But do you know how many kids here spend 10-12 hours a day on phones and computers? Yeah, it happens everywhere. But at least in sunny places you have many more options, activities, and places to go. Here, on a rainy winter day, there’s not much to do. Especially for kids who have already been to every beach, on every hike, and to every craft workshop their parents can dream up.

I don’t like to express negativity on my blog much. It’s meant to be uplifting most of the time. But I decided to voice the reality. I thought I would express these things in case you feel bad about having the same feelings here on the island. Shouldn’t we just be grateful for all the great stuff here? Aren’t these first-world problems? Is this just super whiny? Yes, yes, and perhaps you may think so. But there is a major mental component that is significantly altered by the gloominess. The Northwest isn’t home for everyone’s brain. I am no longer appreciating the magic I used to feel – I know it when I’m glomming onto the sunny days like a weirdo and dreading the onset of dark skies in the late fall. Gloom and its affects are palpable. And I’m not even depressed. I’m merely fighting feeling unmotivated. But that’s not the me I know, and I’m ready to reclaim her.