When I report that the four straight days of clouds, rain, and unseasonably cold temperatures has lifted and I woke up to sunshine this morning… you get it. You can hear the smile in my writing. When I read the Facebook blurbs from my friends: “Snow again in MAY!” and “cracked out the rain boots” and “baseball probably canceled for the third time again tonight” I get it too. Weather has such a huge impact on our lives, and I think sometimes we write it off when a conversation starts there.
“It’s so surface. All he does is talk about the weather,” I can hear you complaining.
And I know, there are people like that. Maybe there is more being said than we hear. I am starting to understand the big joke about the old couple sitting on the porch talking about yesterday’s weather, looking at the skies and doing their best to predict how the day’s weather is going to go.
Why do we talk about the weather so much? Well, first of all, I think it is the safest common ground for all of us. Or rather, common sky. It is one of the life forces over which we have no control, and we experience the changes in weather in much the same way as the person next to us. Maybe the old people on the porch only need the weather to propel their conversations and their relationships. Maybe they know that, because they have lived through enough weather patterns and storms, that the weather reports say enough.
Rain = Sad
Five days straight of rain = annoyed and/or possibly miserable.
First snow for the winter = excitement
500th snow in February = enough already
Snow in May = nearing insanity
Thunderstorms = fascination and anxiety
We want to control our environments, and although we cannot control the things that the clouds will do on a given day, working to predict their movements and trying to understand what they are doing gives us back a modicum amount of control. I personally enjoy both the science and the beauty that is the weather.
Last night, at the end of day four of miserably cold and wet weather, there was a crack in the clouds, and I mean crack. The sun shone through the breaking clouds while the misty rain continued to fall. I knew that there was going to be a rainbow. I pointed that out to Little Sprout, after she perked up at the new presence of the sun. She ran around the corner and she yelled, “Mom, you’re right, there is a HUGE rainbow in the sky!” It may very well be the first rainbow that she consciously understands. I remember my awestruck realization that rainbows were possible when I saw probably the brightest rainbow of my life on the heels of an impressive Colorado thunderstorm when I was probably eight or nine years old.
So, when I stood in the rain last night with my daughter and gaped at the sky-sized rainbow, it was all I wanted to talk about. This morning when I sense the new energy that has arrived with the sun, it too is all I want to talk about. So when my FB post for the day reads: “Rainbow last night after four days of clouds and rain and glorious sunshine this morning” you get it…and you get me.