“Won’t you get tired of good weather all the time?” That was my friend Doyle, an Oregon native like me – and like me, a man of webbed feet and hooded raincoats.

Doyle was talking about the seasons in Oregon. Spring, summer, and fall here are all quite pleasant. I will miss them. Winter, with 154 days of rain a year, not so much.

I will be seventy years old next year. Simple math reveals a distressing statistic: I have endured over ten thousand days of rain in Oregon since I was born. Ten thousand days. Doyle, you’re a great friend, but after ten thousand days of rain I’m ready for “good weather all the time.”

Girona, where we will take up residence April 1^st, boasts three hundred days a year without rain. Chania, where we will be in July, is typically warm and rain-free. Bellagio gets much of its annual rainfall in August when we will be there, but it also averages six hours of sunshine per day. And Puerto Vallarta in the winter? That’s the dry season. Dry and sunny and warm, almost monotonously so.

So yes: we’re about to embark on a year of predictably splendid weather. Will I get tired of it? Does one tire of prime rib, good beer, or chocolate pudding? Does one tire of happiness and good health? Does one tire of being loved?

After ten thousand days of Oregon rain, I can handle it.

photo credit: oregonlive.com