It's almost August and it's just now starting to feel like summer-for-real in Portland. On days when it was overcast in June and July (there were lots of those days) I had a few freak-outs that the end of summer was already near. That summer would be over before it really began. That Portland was going to be straight up cheated out of summer. Those days made my heart heavy. Heavy, people.
By now I should know that Portland isn't on the same summer schedule as any of the other places I've called home (it has been helpful to have old blog posts to remind me of that, as I seem to forget it every July). By now I should accept Portland summers for what they are and enjoy them while we've got them instead of wasting any time thinking about how short they are. But my head is still not there yet.