It’s raining again. On Vancouver Island. Which as newsflashes go is right up there with “Trump Says Something Stupid.”
On a walk this morning my daughter, cold, wet and shivering, asked when the rain would stop.
I answered honestly. “Never.”
She knew I was teasing.
So I told her the real truth. “In forty years.”
That’s how it feels anyway.
I have no right to complain. I choose to move here. To an island. With rainforests on it.
There are positives. Like between November and March it rarely snows. And you can count on seeing the sun. At least once a month.
We had a glorious April. Sun almost daily. Light and heat. At a time when the darkness of COVID was shattering the lives of so many people, we walked in magnificent forests with sunshine streaming through, creating a mosaic of sparkling shadows to rival anything the finest art gallery in the world could offer.
In April I ran in shorts and a t-shirt. I needed sunscreen.
Today we’re drinking hot chocolate. It’s drizzling between rainstorms and the clouds look like they’ve captured the sun and banished it forever on this Victoria Day long weekend. The unofficial start of summer.
Some people embrace this weather. Our neighbour loaded up his paddleboard and headed down to the ocean.
I’ve tried. But I can’t. Not when the grey and rain and blah seem to never go away. When the 7-day forecast on the nightly news shows: rain, showers, cloudy, rain, rain, showers, rain.
But when the sun does come, it is glorious. Like the best of everything distilled into golden rays. Everything is better in the sun. Running, sweating, cutting the lawn, flying kites. Working from home and looking out the window at a yellow world. Everything.
And just like everything is better in the sun, everything is worse when it rains. Stress weighs heavier, the blues are darker, injuries hurt even more.
But sometimes a little light bursts through. I started writing this post sitting on the couch. Alone. Miserable. Now sitting beside me are my girls. Eating watermelon. Watermelon! The quintessential summer fruit on a hot chocolate day.
I could learn a lot from my girls. Injecting a slice of summer into an entirely miserable day.
Although truth be told, instead of eating watermelon in the rain, I’d rather be drinking hot chocolate in the sun.