Today was hazy. Different amounts of clouds layered Portland, varying the amount of light the city was getting. Not much blue, but also the clouds mostly were thin enough to leave the sun only somewhat diffused, making its presence known through the haze.

This morning I looked eastward at that haze-filtered sun, and thanked the haze for not being a haze caused by smoke.

So it made me think of last September's fires. The leaden, wrong-colored skies we lived with for days and days, due to too much of the Columbia River Gorge burning. The smells, the difficulty breathing: none of that is here now. I am relieved about that.

It turned out to be good walking weather. This afternoon I walked to the Woodstock neighborhood and then to the south of it before heading back to Woodstock, reading Patton Oswalt's second memoir Silver Screen Fiend. I also made two trips to the Woodstock library, for some indoor sitting-and-reading time, plus some time online.

And all in clear, clean air. This is a gift.