here we are

The bus is a place to meet interesting people. I sat next to an older man reading a library book one day, and he looked over and said, "I like your bookbag." I was holding a little brown-paper shampoo-bottle bag from Aveda, just the size of three small books or two big ones, just the size to be easily carried along with my purse and other work paraphernalia. In a city full of environmentalists and readers, a good book bag is a treasure.

...

A few months ago, I had coffee with another lawyer who went to law school in Colorado. "I actually found it a relief to move out here," she told me, "It was so sunny all the time in Colorado. I felt this pressure to be cheerful all the time."

I thought she was nuts, at the time, but when the air cooled off a few days ago and the sky clouded, I looked up at it with relief. In a place with such a short summer, sunshine creates such pressure to be out enjoying it, making the most of it. A few days of cool and clouds are a pleasant change.

Unfortunately, this is the start of about 9 months of cool and clouds. "We really only have three seasons here," someone told me today. "There is no real spring."

"No," I said, "there is a spring. There is no real summer. This whole summer has seemed like spring." And it has.

I could use a bit more mixing of my clouds and sun. Why must they be so separate?