While the rest of the U.S. is suffering through, or enjoying, record-breaking heat, my husband was emailing our landlord to please turn on the heater in our building during a windy 50-something degree day outside (but felt like it was in the 40s inside our drafty abode). I’m not sure if this is a blessing, comical, or sad, but sometimes we feel like we’re in our own little isolated world here. My mom can’t comprehend the fact that I’m still wearing scarves and thermals in June. This is a weird time of year when I’m eagerly anticipating summer arrival as I did in high school for my summer break from school to come, and daydreaming about frolicking outdoors from sun up to sun down. Yet I’m keenly aware of the fact that there are melting, mosquito-bitten people right now who’d gladly trade places with us – this I keep in mind as I try to come back down from the clouds, feet firmly planted on Seattle soil. (Photos of these curious clouds taken in March).