Only several days ago Spring thrilled in the elusive sunshine, promising an end to a Portland winter.
Painted ladies stormed the fruit trees like locusts.
Then Nature, in a display of bad sportsmanship, as if she were taking pleasure in reminding us what we were being denied, offered a fresh deluge. Raindrops dropped like bowling balls. The butterflies folded up their wings and disappeared into the eaves. The succulents were in two inches of water
Bursts of sunshine…
…followed by more drizzle.
She can’t decide what she wants. We are at the fulcrum of something we needed badly, and a return to the cake of comfort.
We are prisoners of weather. This is not what we are used to but we’re gonna miss it when it ends.