»
S
I
D
E
B
A
R
«
REMEMBER RAIN?
March 30th, 2001 by Clark Humphrey

AT FIRST, I’d not planned to mention rain in my new Seattle picture book. It’s a cliche, I thought; the topic of too many cutesy-wootsy “jokes” in newspaper living-section columns and dorky greeting cards.

Then something happened. The rain went away, and stayed away most of this past winter.

Dunno ’bout any of you, but I came to miss it. Without the rain and the overcast, winter in Seattle is merely a slightly warmer version of winter in Liverpool.

It was as if all the changes wrought upon the city in recent years had altered not just its economy, its ethnography, and its cost of living but its very climate. All became bright, sometimes glaringly so.

Our usual, predictable seasonal-affective-disorder season got supplanted by nine-hour days of Technicolor brilliance interrupting fifteen-hour nights of crisp (but above freezing), starry skies. Instead of the grim, fatalist aesthetic of Cobain, Lynda Barry, and Ray Carver, we had a cheery, thought-free, go-for-it look and feeling better suited to techno music, glass art, and demographically-correct magazines. (Too bad the economy couldn’t keep up with the sunny disposition, particularly those once high-flyin’ tech companies.)

It was a disconcerting experience for someone accustomed, both psychologically and physiologically, to spending week after week under the low silver canopy of overcast (which inspired the surreal image of a giant indoor city in Stacey Levine’s novel Dra-).

The main salient feature of western PacNW rain isn’t really the precipitation. It certainly isn’t the volume of downpour, which even in an average year is less than NYC and several other big cities. It’s the dim, diffused light that makes going from indoors to out seem like those early Masterpiece Theatre shows where the interiors were in brightly-lit video and the exteriors were in drab 16mm film. (On a heavily overcast day, my new digital still camera insists on flash outdoors at high noon). It’s the lo-visibility “grey-out” conditions on the water. It’s the water-torture drip drip drip. It’s the mildewy scent that gets in your clothes and never goes away.

This past week, the drizzle came back, at least for a few days. Not enough to relieve the alarmingly low levels in our hydroelectric lakes, but enough to remind us what it’s like.

NEXT: Millions are reading and writing more than they ever did before. That’s supposed to be bad?

ELSEWHERE:


Leave a Reply

XHTML: You can use these tags: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>

»  Substance:WordPress   »  Style:Ahren Ahimsa
© Copyright 1986-2025 Clark Humphrey (clark (at) miscmedia (dotcom)).