For many years, when the “November in the soul” became too heavy to bear during the often wet Oregon spring, I drove east of the mountains to find sunshine. It was a reliable way to jump ahead a few weeks, hike velvety hillsides before they turned brown, and soak up some of what I knew was headed our way. Now I look on my iPhone weather app to find rain and thunderstorms in Hood River, the Dalles, and farther — as far east as I can drive in a day. I drove last weekend to Maryhill– a normally dry oasis in the Columbia gorge– and ended up scurrying back a few hours like a drowned rat in a drenching thunderstorm.
Some say this extra wet weather is due to La Nina in the Pacific. Perhaps.
The best explanation I’ve heard about the effects of climate change was this: “look, if you raise the average global temperature you are putting a whole lot more energy into the jet stream. The job of the jet stream is to dissipate energy and all that new energy has to go somewhere.”
May God comfort the people who lost family in the Joplin storm. I have no burden compared to theirs. I will find my spring solace in a glass of single malt scotch, a good book and in looking for a new motorcycle. Maybe it can take me someplace where the spring looks like it used to.