“...it was Sunday and it was raining and it was Oregon.” — John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley

    A few weeks back it rained steadily for about eight days. Folks here in Texas started grumbling about the grey skies and wet weather.

    Wimps.

    I grew up on the Oregon coast, where you either learn to love the rain or you go insane. Eight days, hah! Try eight weeks without seeing the sun. Day after day of lovely drizzle and mist. Rain so light you’re not sure it’s raining, and full-on Pacific storms — we saw it all. I can probably identify 138 different varieties of rain without thinking hard.

    The weather is such a feature of life in Oregon that it has become our most popular source of humor. Here are a few good ones:

• Last year 677 people fell off their bikes in Oregon... and drowned.

• You can tell when summer is near in Oregon... the rain feels warmer.

• Oregonians don’t tan... they rust.

• Oregonians recently sighted a UFO... the sun.

    While I’ve grown to appreciate the positive qualities of precipitation, life under cloud cover does have its drawbacks. You may or may not be familiar with a phenomenon known as “Seasonal Affective Disorder.” It’s the depression and general crankiness people experience after a prolonged period of time without the sun. Nobody’s exactly positive why this happens — something to do with seratonin and Vitamin D — but it does happen. I’ve experienced it firsthand, and it’s not much fun.

    One particular time I remember was about 1992, and Sheri and I were living in Portland, Oregon. The weather had been even more cruel than usual... we were on our eleventh straight week without seeing the sun. I was working in a record store while I finished up my studies at Portland State University. Every customer, and every clerk for that matter, was grumpy. Full-on cranky.

Oregon Facts: State Bird: Mosquito State Animal: Slug State Rock: Sponge State Colors: Gray and Grayer

    “Hey, pal! Don’t you know Eric Clapton shouldn’t be filed under POP?!” “Oh yeah, buddy? Where should I put it?!” Remainder of conversation censored... It was an ugly time.

    Then, about 3:00pm, it happened. A single shaft of sunlight appeared in the parking lot outside. The golden beam widened, and others joined it, until larger pools of sun were visible. Customers stared out the windows. Clerks stopped their cash registers and gaped. Some lucky individuals were in the parking lot, and they stood under the glorious light of the sun. Many of them put their packages down right there on the asphalt, opened up their coats and spread their arms to soak up as much of it as they could. Who knew how long it would last? Others, pale and squinting, started to drift out of the store to join them. Soon there were dozens standing outside, arms outstretched, bathed in light. Smiles reappeared. I heard someone start to giggle, just from the sheer joy of it.

    Within an hour, the atmosphere in the store was completely different. “My, those packages look heavy, may I carry them for you?” “Oh yes, you delightful young man, I would appreciate it greatly!”

    I’ve seen what a difference the sun can make. Those folks down in San Diego or Cozumel get it all year round. They surely start to take it for granted, but not an Oregonian. A ray of sunshine is a precious natural resource, not something to be squandered or neglected, but something to be prized and appreciated.

    I guess that’s why I love the picture of heaven we get in the Bible:

And the city has no need of sun or moon, for the glory of God illuminates the city, and the Lamb is its light. The nations of the earth will walk in its light, and the rulers of the world will come and bring their glory to it. Its gates never close at the end of day because there is no night. (Revelation 21:23-25)