A Trifle About the Weather

I really dislike conversations about weather.  It’s small talk to fill the dead air when any other subject is too much work.  Complaining about the weather (especially in New England) to me is even less appealing.  Because, really, do we have it that bad?

Yeah, so, half of the summer it rained.  And then we had a burst of disgusting humidity for two weeks… which did make me hypocrite.  I hate sticking to things and not being able to dry off when I get out of a shower.  So I bitched about it.  And I felt stupid because I knew… eventually… we would get this bliss.

I like the change.  The shift from summer to the decay of fall.  Macabre?  Maybe.  There is a sweet smell to the leaves dying that I appreciate.  That I consider myself lucky to appreciate, knowing allergic friends find the mold and decay an anathema to their lungs.  I like the cool crisp evenings and the golden glow of the sun in the morning.  Something that is distinctly autumn.  In a few weeks there will be brilliant colors crowning the trees.  Making fall in New England even more delicious.

I don’t live in California where the fires are eating up the dry earth.  I don’t live in the south where that humidity doesn’t disappear after a two week burst.  Where there is a collective gasp every time a hurricane builds off the coast of the Atlantic.  I don’t live in the Midwest where the temperature plunges below zero for weeks on end and the wind takes the negative even further.  I live here in New England, where yes, you blink and it changes.

I realized this summer that every day is a gift.  Every beautiful moment of weather, good or bad, wet or dry, hot or cold is a gift.  It is air that I’m breathing.  Colors that my eyes behold.  Sweet smells that I breathe in.  Because I am here in the moment, it is perfect.  And while I completely contradicted myself by spending five paragraphs to discuss the weather, I will say that I love it all.  Today especially.