Seattle weather (it's pouring down rain even as I type) encourages the following, apparently, according to statistics:
More Ph.Ds per capita live here than anywhere else in America. I'm not kidding.
There are more independent bookstores per square foot than anywhere else, even New York City, apparently, because we all stay indoors all the time, reading, drinking coffee, and going quietly or noisily insane.
And I know I get more writing done because there's no good reason to go outside. Every day, I look out my window first thing, and make a negotiation with the omnipresent greyness. I decide to ignore it most days, but in fact, it's a psychic drain to live in place where the sun so rarely shines. I love it here in many ways; it's a great city, and it has become extremely interesting as the years go by. It has grown up from its industrial roots, and there is a lot to do, especially when the sun shines on those three days out of the year when everyone is out, making traffic even worse than it normally is (another reason to stay indoors, if you ask me).
but... we are forced indoors here unless you enjoy walking through downpours all the time.
There is a joke made by old-timers who lived here back when it was all logging and fishing... that moss grows in people's underarms because it's so damp here. It's true. You do tend to get a little soggy living here, and mold on the walls and in one's brain is a constant threat. ;-)
Back to the writing, and listening to the sound of the raindrops. It's a lovely sound... yet I miss the sun.