Land of the midnight sun, almost

Normally, June is a cruel month here in Seattle. We get little glimpses of spring and summer in May, and then June brings nothing but chilly, rainy gray. Which lasts precisely until July 5, the first unofficial day of our glorious, three-month Northwest summer.

But it's been sunny this June, and yesterday it hit 87 degrees. All this sunshine has served to accentuate the expansive solstice days; normally all that daylight is obscured by the relentless cloud cover. Instead of jumping out of bed at the crack of dawn, I'm normally huddled in my blankets, mulling my absurd desire to get up and turn on the fracking furnace on the first day of summer.

But this year, we're feeling every hour of daylight. Technically, sunrise is at 5:11 am and sunset at 9:11 pm, but the sky begins to lighten around 4 am and the birds starting singing mightily a bit before that. A 10:00 bedtime does not quite bring total darkness. This week at the hair salon we all got to discussing how sleep-deprived we are, waking up with the birds at 4 or 5 am, unable to settle to sleep until nearly 11.

It's ok though. All that sunlight seems to bring energy. This weekend saw a flurry of activity on Holly Street. We built and hung a new back gate, and I prepared our back patio for a summer of outdoor living - sweeping and cleaning every surface, and hanging the clothesline and hammock. Enrico washed all the windows and screens, so the air feels clean and the house lighter. The dogs got their walks early before the heat became too much for Nelly, whose thick, luxurious coat elicits great admiration but leaves her overinsulated on a warm day. She spent the remaining daylight hours looking for the spot with the coolest floor and the best breeze, watching us bustle around her in baffling activity.