This is our third winter in northwest Washington. Sometimes, i think I have adjusted to the change, then I realize that there are things about the place where I live that are really different from other places where I have lived.

Last week, we took a walk in the rain. If you want to walk every day, and we do, you have to be willing to walk in the rain around here. Some days it simply is raining. We have invested in good rain gear and it isn’t anywhere near as difficult to walk in the rain as it was for us to walk in below-zero weather when we lived in South Dakota. I remember days when we lived in South Dakota that our walk consisted of parking a mile from a cafe, walking to the cafe, taking a break to eat and warm up, then walking back to the car. We planned our walk so that we would walk into the wind going to the cafe - the lure of warm beverages and food being incentive. The walk back to the car, downwind, was easier.

Walking in the rain, however, isn’t what got me to thinking about the differences between where I now live and where i used to live. At least it wasn’t the walking. What got my attention is that one of my neighbors was outside washing the windows of their house while it was raining. I sometimes think that natives in this area don’t notice that it is raining when it is raining. I have no conscious memory of ever washing windows in the rain. I think of it as an activity for a bright, sunny day.

We have had several bright sunny days. it didn’t rain every day last week. We walked in the sunshine at least twice. Yesterday it was over 50 degrees and sunny when we took our walk. It was delightful and everything felt like spring. It is, of course, January. When we had some warm, sunny days in January when we lived in South Dakota, we were wise enough not to get our hopes up. We knew more snow was still coming. February can be the coldest month. Spring blizzards continue into May. Here, however, it is different. When we got home after our walk, I noticed that I’m going to have to cut the grass in my lawn soon. Mowing the lawn in January would be a definite reminder that we don’t live in South Dakota any more.

We don’t have to worry about mowing at the farm, yet. In fact, I was walking around the farm yesterday and I’m quite sure that it would be really, really easy to get the lawn mower really, really stuck. I know from personal experience not to drive off of the compacted driveways at the farm when the ground has this much moisture. I could bury our pickup truck deep enough to require a tractor to get it out in minutes. I’ve only gotten stuck at the farm once, but that time I was close enough to a concrete pad in front of the barn that the neighbor was able to keep his pickup on the pad when he pulled me out.

Mud and getting stuck are dangers in a lot of places. When we lived in North Dakota tractors stuck in the field were a spectator sport. When news of a stuck tractor made it to the cafe in town, folks drove out to see the process of recovery. I’m not sure that the mud is any worse here than it is in a lot of other places I know. But in most of those places, the ground is frozen for all of January and you don’t have to worry about it. Here, you have to be vigilant.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I own two pairs of muck boots. It is a luxury that occurred by accident. I bought one pair. The other came to me when we cleaned out a family summer place last year. One pair has been living in my pickup. You never know when you’re going to need them around here.

I keep thinking that I should cook dinner on the barbecue one of these days, then around 4 pm, when I might start to think of putting things out, dusk starts to creep in and I lose my enthusiasm for cooking outdoors when it is so dark. A little patience is in order. The days are getting longer. I’ll be cooking outdoors soon.

I have made moves that were at least as challenging as this one in my life. Moving to Chicago was a real big deal when I was 21 years old. I had never lived in a big city. I was amazed at all of the locks. I had no trouble remembering to lock my car, but occasionally forgot to remove my keys, which taught me to be fairly competent at opening locked car doors, a reminder that the locks weren’t very effective in the first place. We had a tiny apartment in a building that had a tiny lawn shared by all of the families in the apartment building. I don’t know if I would have been able to maintain my sanity were Chicago not located on Lake Michigan. At least I could walk down to the lake and see something a little wild if I turned my back on the city. But I adjusted to Chicago living. We only lived in Chicago for four years. By the time I had lived in Chicago for as long as we have lived here, I was confidently making a 25-mile commute out to the suburbs to the church where I was working.

Perhaps adapting to change takes more time when you get older. I’m not surprised that I miss the people of South Dakota. We lived there a long time and we have good friends there. I am, however, a bit surprised that I’m still learning to make this place feel like home. Some days I think I’m making the adjustment. Then another day comes and my neighbor is washing windows or mowing grass in the rain and I think, “this is a strange place.”

We used to say it takes three generations to become a native in small town North Dakota. Maybe I need to just give it some time.