Rainy Days

I love rainy days.

I always have. Even when I'm stuck out in them, unprepared, getting drenched down to the skin, I love it. I can't really explain the appeal, except to say that there's just something about the quality of the daylight, the chill in the air, and the rushing sound of the droplets falling, like the world suddenly speeding up... that appeals to me.

Maybe it's because, when I was a kid, I got to stay home from school if it rained hard enough. Maybe on some deep psychological level, rain represents freedom to me -- the thought of all that pent-up moisture suddenly being released from its cage. The tension in the sky subsiding as it pours itself out over the world.

Maybe it's because after it rains, the sky looks like this...

Maybe I just like getting wet.

Soon, the wife-monster and I will be moving away from California, the reasons for which I won't go into here, except to say that I feel I've squeezed all the juice out of this fruit that there is to squeeze, and all that's left are the bitter parts.

We've set our sights on Portland, Oregon, and among the many changes we'll have to get used to out there is that, in Portland, it rains. A lot. Or so they say. We visited early last year, just as the last bits of snow and ice were fading from winter, and we were pleasantly surprised to find that only two out of the five days we spent out there saw any rainfall.

It's a nice area, with nice people, and an artistic vibe that gives me the warm comfies. It's also bicycle friendly, and has good public transportation, which means that I'll be freer to get from place to place without need of a car (a rare blessing coming from the Pod-like Lifestyle of L.A. County).

When we visited, I was actually shocked to see just how many people get from place to place on bicycles. They've even given them their own lanes on the city streets. When you get to a red-light, the cyclists have a place to roll up and stop ahead of the cars, and they get to go first when it turns green. They're forcing drivers to be considerate and attentive, and their methods are so efficient, it baffles me. In a happy way.

And on top of all this... it rains there. A lot. So they say.

But here's my dilemma... I ride my bike to and from work everyday. It's only about a five-minute trek; ten, tops, if I'm lazy. And during the three or four weeks a year when it actually rains, those five-to-ten minutes are all I need to get soaked to the bone.

So, I have to wonder... in a city like Portland, where a third of the vehicles on the road are bicycles, and the rain falls freely and frequently... how do these people manage? Do they just resign themselves to getting wet every time they go outside? Do they sell special rain-proof coats for bicyclists to wear over their regular clothes and bags? A "Portland Poncho"? They must have a way of coping... and that's something I'll need to learn once I'm out there. Getting soaked to the bone is plenty fun when I have nowhere to be; less so when I'm commuting to the office.

Either way, the move will be a new adventure, and I look forward to meeting it head-on.

I also look forward to the rain.