Into the Fire

When you’re born and raised in the Pacific Northwest, you become accustomed to rain. In all seasons. Rain is a staple on the western side of Washington state, much like bread in Russia or rice paddies in China. People who intentionally move here from other states often do so because they appreciate, some actually enjoy, the rain.

The rain keeps us clothed in evergreens, thus we are known as the Evergreen State. However, that primarily speaks to the western part of the state because much of the eastern part of our state is a form of desert climate, but anything irrigated over there on that side grows world famous timothy hay in the Kittitas Valley as well as some of the best alfalfa, wheat, straw, fruit and vegetables you will ever find.

The seasons here on the western side melt into each other but produce distinct versions of summer, autumn, winter, and spring. Recognizable, tangible characteristics year after year. And each one of them includes some portion of rain. I would say of the four seasons around here, the most unpredictable is Spring. It can be cold and wet or warm and wet or cold, warm, and wet.

In eastern Washington summer and winter are most distinct and usually emote from an extension of each other, the autumn and spring over there usually short in themselves. The winters are cold with snow, and the summers are hot for long periods.

When I was a young girl, I got my first taste of eastern Washington when I went camping with my BFF Debbie’s family. We visited a lot of places in eastern Washington, and I decided someday I wanted to live over there. Well, I got my opportunity years later via horse racing, spending several winters and springs and one hot summer there in a particular city I won’t name here because I learned to hate it over there. Funny how things change.

Now, though, as our summer here was “normal” for this Seattle area, I’m thinkin’ how much I love the long hot summers. Prior to this year, we had two years of unseasonably hot summers in western Washington with crisp, cold, not-so-wet winters, maybe one day of snow. Glorious, really. But the “norm” for us is wet springs, wet not-too-cold winters as far as winters go, all totaled about two weeks of hot weather in the summer but usually in the upper 70s with occasional rain to water the yards and abundance of flowers and gardens—oh, and wet autumns which we call fall probably because the rain “falls” all the time. Seriously, fall is often one of the loveliest seasons of all in western Washington until November. November over here is a notoriously bad weather month.

So what, you ask? Well, more and more I like the heat of summer. That gorgeous yellow ball in that clear blue sky penetrating the earth and my skin with its warmth. Whereas summer used to be just a season for fun and frolic and no school, it has become a season of radical redemption. It’s a season where the furnace isn’t used, the windows are often open wide until the air heats up, the daylight filters through the curtains at an early hour announcing another shimmering day. I love summer.

However, I also love fall, its array of beautiful colors splashed everywhere over here, inescapable no matter where you look. The smell of autumn is cool and inviting with a nip to the nostrils—its own perfect scent. One can forgive the passing of summer’s perfume because autumn’s is delicious as well and succinctly its own.

As our family will face the task of moving eventually from this home where we thought we would “live forever”, we’re considering the possibility of relocating to the eastern side of the state. It’s not an easy decision for us for so many reasons, not the least of which is the love of seasons, each one defined in its own way, carrying the aroma of its arrival along with its baggage and flaws, much like we travel from each era in our lives.

But that hot heat of summer which is extended for longer periods of time over on the other side conflicting with the longer, colder snow-laden winters creates a paradox and reminds me there is always a sacrifice to attain what you want the most.

After all, the sacrifice given for us—because we were what God wanted the most—was the greatest sacrifice of all.

Today, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, all I can say is Thank You. From my heart to yours.