Winters in the Pacific Northwest are famously dreary and grey. It’s not the inconsistent, drizzly rain that gets to me, but the weeks without sun, the sky that feels like its grazing the top of my head. By the time February rolls around, I’m usually ready to crawl out of my skin. The light boxes and vitamin D supplements and temporary trips to tropical locales do little to assuage my craving for sun. Some people shrug their shoulders and say, “It doesn’t bother me, I like the rain.” And to those people, I say, Bravo.   I wish.   I’m a sun baby. I spent my childhood in California, accumulating a speckle of odd-shaped freckles that grace my shoulders to this day. During…