Spring time in Portland is maddening. I am much more used to it these days than I have been in past years. I now understand and can expect that from about mid-February until late June, the weather can range from high 40s to low 90s during the day, it may or may not rain, and the sun may or may not come out. While I can expect it, it still makes me feel stir-crazy: I’m waiting on the edge of my seat every day to find out if the sun is going to come out, and if it is, whether I’ll have any time to enjoy it.
The weather here, and particularly this time of year, is finicky. It’s made me think more and more about how our physical environment impacts our mental health and relationships. I was talking with my dear friend more this past week about moving back to California, and how people in Cali just seem to have more energy to connect with others and do things. Portland seems to go into hibernation from about late October until about April. The change in energy around this town the past couple of months is palpably different- more charged, more exciting, more fresh. Dating sites seem to be more active, friendships can actually continue in person, relationships in general seem more possible.
And this finicky weather, on the heels of of the winter hibernation, seems to go hand-in-hand with finicky romantic connections. It’s as if the variable weather has a direct impact on people’s interests in others, and their energy to invest in new relationships. (I am, too, affected by said variable weather in this way it seems).
I feel a breeze, and it feels flirtatious. The sun peeks out for a few minutes, blows some kisses, and then quickly darts back out of sight, leaving us all wanting more. The lovers in this town are the same, especially at this time of year: sensual and flirty, ephemeral and nebulous.
I’m excited for the hot-baked sun of summer, the lovely romance and depth of commitment it inspires. I can count on the sun, so you can count on me to be there, with arms wide open.