It Always Rains in Seattle

And that’s the way we like it

The famed Pike Place Market, a little damp from the rain. Photo by author.

We have 38 ways to describe the different states of rain. We are a region of moss, slugs, puddles, and the endless sound of dripping water. Our skies are gray — there’s an enormous palette of gray tones you might not be aware of unless you live in Seattle. Clouds love us. They show off every variety they’re capable of, from fluffy white and wispy pale gray, to the deepest charcoal this side of black you’ve ever seen.

Photo by author

Our roads are slick, our houses green, our parks are muddy, and watch your step on the sidewalks. We navigate mushy piles of leaves in our rain boots and duck boots and North Face jackets with the hoods up. We don’t use umbrellas. We are always damp, we live with SAD, and we never stop talking about the weather. You’d think we hate it here, but you couldn’t be more wrong.

The north end of the market before it opens. Photo by author

I’m a Seattle native. We’re a rare breed in a city that’s mostly stocked with transplants. I was born here, my mother was born here, and my grandparents found their way here out of…