It was spring when I first moved to Port Townsend.  At least it was spring on the calendar.  It was April but it felt more like winter.  There were some sunny days, but mostly it was cold.  The wind blew.  It rained.  The wind blew.  I stayed close to the fire.  The wind blew!

Before I left Portland, I had secured a job in a plant nursery to tide me over until I could get my own business started.  My co-workers said, “Spring in Port Townsend is always pretty cold and blustery.  Warm weather doesn’t come here until May if we’re lucky.”  

In May there were a few warm, sunny days.  Each one was fabulous with all the mountains and the bay sparkling in the sun: but there were only a few.  I asked, “When does summer come here?”  They said, “Maybe in June.”  In June people said, “Summer never comes here until after the 4th of July.”  In July, it was foggy every morning for the whole month.  At about 4:00pm a cool wind would come up.  They called it “The four o’clock wind.”  “You just have to wait a little longer for summer to come here.” someone said, “Summer never comes until August.”

Proving that person correct, the first two weeks of August were spectacular.  The sun shone every day.  Despite the four o’clock wind, I thought summer had finally arrived.  I worked in my garden, I went for walks all over town.  I left the windows and the doors open.  Then one day I heard my neighbor call over to her neighbor, “It feels like fall in the air, doesn’t it?”  Her neighbor called back, “It sure does.”  I thought, “This is IT?  This is all the summer there IS?  I’ve been cheated!”  But they were right.  It wasn’t long before the trees started turning color and the foggy mornings returned.  

I had been introduced to a Port Townsend summer.