Morning dawns frosty and bright. The sky is blue with scattered grey and white; the air is dry. The weather gives no hint of what is to come.
Midday. The sun is fiercely bright; looking up I see only blue, and yet I feel raindrops. I step indoors; suddenly, the windows darken, and sheets of rain pour down. I step back outside into cool wet sunlight, the soggy pavement the only evidence of the passing squall.
Afternoon. Heavy rain falls as I travel north. Thunder crashes as I walk the last few blocks. Waiting for the bus back downtown, there is no end in sight. And yet somehow, during that ride south, the sun comes out. Rainbows appear in the east; the whole world glitters as the rain fades away.
Early evening. The sky above is blue and clear, studded with fluffy clouds. But the sun in the west is shrouded in distant falling rain, heavy and grey. A few drops sprinkle down, a storm in fits and starts. I prepare for a deluge at any moment; instead, the rain moves south, leaving behind damp streets and icy wind beneath a shining sky.
This is spring in Oregon.