Mark Twain has a particularly funny notice at the beginning of one of his works of fiction. In it, he warns readers that there are no descriptions of weather in the book. Believing that such passages serve no useful purpose and slow down the narrative, he directs readers to an appendix to the book, where all the weather can be found. (There's no actual appendix.)

As you know, I'm no Twain (not even Shania). On this blog, the scintillating weather updates are intermingled with other important stories. It's the right thing to do.

It's been a beautiful summer here in Oregon -- bankably dry and sunny, nearly every single day since late June. But the season's showing its dark side before heading out of state. Mean as cat manure, and twice as nasty.

The last three days have been scorching hot, and the skies in the Portland area have been stagnant. The result is some foul air, which we get here from time to time, but it's especially ugly when there's a bunch of forest fire smoke mixed in with the old Detroit perfume coming from those cars, SUVs, and diesel trucks. You can see it, smell it, even feel it in your throat, pretty much all the time you're outside. Beautiful central Oregon is under a major cloud of smoke, and people over there are living in shelters, praying for their homes and for the firefighters who are on the lines trying to save them. Out in the spectacularly scenic Columbia River Gorge, folks have also been evacuated (though at the moment they're back), and the interstate was closed for a while.

We're going to miss the sun when it's gone for the long, dark western Oregon winter. In fact, we should be getting a little wistful at the fact that today was probably our last day over 90 degrees until next June or July. Instead, there are folks praying for some gray, rainy weather, and the forecasters say it will be here on Sunday.

I love the fall (a-a-and twins), but what a way for summer to go out.