A 9-year-old boy shared an important bit of information at the dinner table on Monday: “The summer solstice is the longest day of the year!”
And the adults nodded sagely, satisfied that he’d carried something of value home from third grade.
But they didn’t have a ready answer for this follow-up question: “Then how come it’s not hotter?”
It is not easy to explain the Pacific Northwest’s version of early summer.
After a fast start during a mild spring, tomato plants suddenly seem to be in a June swoon that mirrors the performance of a certain major league franchise. The furnace still kicks on an hour before dawn. And Snohomish County neighbors are posting glib Facebook comments about toasting the solstice with hot cocoa.
Yes, officially it is summer. But don’t let the sunshine fool you.
While on a morning walk, or when sitting on the patio in the evening — heck, sometimes even in the middle of the afternoon — it is a wise native who sticks with an outer layer of fleece or flannel. For those who insist on rushing the season, the alternative fashion choice would be short sleeves and goose flesh.
Longtime, weather-wise residents knowingly assert that it is always changeable in these parts until sometime after July 4.
But let’s confess our little north Puget Sound secret. Deep down, we relish these cool and sometimes damp days. And each summer’s mild start seems remarkably like a rerun of previous years (which we also grumbled about).
From our temperate perch in the Northwest, we can glance around the world and observe extremes elsewhere that underscore just how coddled we are by the meteorologists. In Arizona, temperatures approached 120 degrees this week. Already, crews have faced scorching conditions while fighting wildfires in Southern California (reminding us of the harsh conditions our neighbors east of the mountains must contemplate).
And, for a real extreme, we can consider the pilots who flew a medical rescue mission to Antarctica, where it was minus 75 degrees.
So — without opening up a can of climate-change worms — let’s count ourselves lucky, even as we inch our way toward July.
This period of not-so-hot and not-so-cold may discourage bathing suits or barbecues, but it is a relatively brief rite of passage. We endure it each year, certain that the dazzling glory of July and August lies ahead.
Before you know it, we’ll be complaining that 80 degrees is just too darned hot.
Talk to us
> Give us your news tips.
> Send us a letter to the editor.
> More Herald contact information.
