Post 5

I always loved the month of May.  When I was a kid, May marked the time of year where things started to change. 

Growing up in the foothills of Washington, there were two seasons during the year: Grey and Summer.  For 8 months out of the year, starting in the middle of September, the skies darken, the weather cools, and the whole state seems to brace itself for another wet season.  Don’t get me wrong, Autumn is my favorite time of year.  But there is a reason it is also called Fall: it is short-lived.  The changing of the leaves paints the ground in a myriad brilliance of color, which is quite gorgeous.  The leaves seem to know something we do not: that it is time for something darker and perhaps it is best to wait it out.  Everyone who learns that I am from Seattle always asks me the same question:  “So, uh, it rains a lot up there, huh?”  My answer is always as dour and pallid as the question itself: “Yep.”  What non-Washingtonians don’t know about Seattle is that it does not rain there like the movies portray.  It is true that most days have rain, but it is not a constant drenching downpour like the emotional climax of a Nicholas Sparks movie.  Instead, the blue of the sky seems hide beneath a smothering wan blanket, like a child afraid of the dark of the closet.  Just as the flashlight brandished by the child beneath the blanket is muted, so is the sunlight above the encompassing grey. 

But in May, the sun seems to throw off the dark mantle and shine through the falling water, showering the ground in a dazzling rainbow of light and mist.  The plants green and reach towards the sky, drinking both the cordial rays and showers heavily.  Flowers bloom and signal to the people that it is time for rebirth into the outdoors.  It didn’t really matter what temperature it was; guys would wear shorts and girls would wear dresses when the sun came out.  Usually, I would watch all of this through the looking glass that was the classroom windows.  I would see the change in the season and long to be a part of it.  There seemed to be a low buzzing energy the started with Spring, like a steadily increasing bass line beneath harmony and chorus.  Everyone would smile a little more, laugh a little easier, and rowdiness was rampant. 

I can still see all of these things here in Truckee.  The transition may not be as visibly apparent, since there is no rain to shoo away, but the sun awakens the population all the same.  The effect is amplified with people that spend their lives outdoors.  Those that are in tune with nature know this season well, and excitement builds with each rising degree mark on the thermometer.  The best lubricant to get people out of their winter hibernation has always been alcohol.  I went out for a few beers in Truckee last Friday and the population was celebrating the sun in full swing.  All of the bars were packed with people.  When I say people, I mean mostly men.  All of my senses picked up energy of some kind.  The street and bars smelled of a familiar mixture of stale beer, ammonia, the dense mass of a crowd, and cigarettes.  All of the people were talking over the speakers, reverberating the songs of inebriation and love lost.  Some of the girls empowered by liquid confidence decided that the time was ripe for karaoke.  Unfortunately, their voices were soured with slurring and missed intonation.

I usually mark Memorial Day weekend as the unofficial start of the Summer.  The weather is usually pleasant and there is a plethora of activities and events in any one locale.  Ironically enough, the area around Lake Tahoe traditionally gets one last snowfall every Memorial Day weekend.  I was lucky enough to dodge the cold weather and instead headed west to Sonoma County for a little vacation.  Sonoma is a magical place filled to the brim with natural beauty and concerted human artisanal traditions.  Where Tahoe is an outdoorsman’s paradise, Sonoma is a place of gastronomic wonder.  But, my vacation was otherwise unrelated to my work and so I will just say that it definitely got me ready for a summer packed with sun, dirt, and fun.  The true trail work starts in earnest now, with volunteer crews arriving on trails.          

“Sun is shining, the weather is sweet. 

Makes you want to move your dancing feet. 

To the rescue, here I am!”

-Bob Marley, Sun is Shining