There is beauty amidst the gloom

Apparently, I'm not the only one who thinks we have just endured -- and maybe are still experiencing -- one of the gloomiest winters and springs in recent memory.

Gray. Rainy. Cold. Depressing.

Wait. That's how a lot of folks -- smart ones, too -- describe the Oregon coast where my wife and I make as many trips as possible. However, we have thought about charging the Oregon Tourism Board a fee for our services. Every time we visit, the weather is sunny and gorgeous. Go figure.

Recently, I met an Oregon native who grew up in the Florence and Reedsport area on the Oregon coast, just a few miles south of where we hang out when we are visiting. We were comparing notes about the beauty of the coast, with the ocean on one side and national forests and mountains on the other.

I asked this native about the bad-weather reputation the Oregon coast has, particularly in the winter. The tourism gurus, by the way, have managed to turn winter storms along the coast into a spectator sport. If you have never experienced a massive storm of rain and wind that causes the waves of the incoming tide to crash higher and higher on the rocks and sandy beaches, you've missed one of nature's great shows.

So we are told.

But my new friend from Oregon shared this story:

Not only is he a native of the Oregon coast, but so are his parents, who are now in their 80s. A couple of years ago, they abruptly moved to Bend, far from the coast and on the edge of the high desert that covers much of eastern Oregon. When this incredulous fellow called his parents, he said, "You've lived on the coast all your life. What on earth made you decide to move to Bend?" He father's reply was simple and sensible: "We got tired of the rain."

Here's what I figure: If, after 80 years of coastal living, a husband and wife of sound mind move to the desert to get away from the wet winters, I should take heed.

Our recent wet weather has caused its share of calamities, but if you look hard enough, there is a silver lining.

For example, I can't remember a spring in Cape Girardeau that has been so lush and green. This is due, in large part, to the fact that we did not have a killing frost late in the season like last year. Blossoms have been extraordinary. Lady Bird Johnson knew what she was talking about when she encouraged every American "to plant a tree, a shrub or a bush."

My wife and I have also noticed an upgrade in the feathered visitors to our bird feeders. We usually are overrun with sparrows by May. But there haven't been that many sparrows this year. We aren't sure if weather is a factor, but if it is, bring on more of the same. What kind of weather do we need to get rid of the squirrels?

We have been particularly captivated by at least four pairs -- it's hard to keep an accurate count on flying objects -- of indigo buntings that appear to have taken up residence in the wild hedge behind our house. We have had traveling visits from the buntings in years past, but this is the first time we've noticed them staying for a spell.

The brilliant buntings are a good contrast to the goldfinches and cardinals and purple finches that are regulars in our yard -- the same tenants that continue to show boarding-house appetites for free food.

Yes, it's been gloomy, along with a few days here and there of blue sky, bright sunshine and gentle breezes.

All in all, there's more to be grateful for this year than some of our recent less gloomy springs.

I just hope our weather doesn't make a permanent change to the wet side. I do not want to move to a desert.

R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.