Weather

Every place I have lived has had something unique to it in regards to the weather. Some special thing that gives you a sense of place.

When I lived in St. Louis, what I loved were the thunderstorms that rolled into the city. Massive clouds with thunder that you could hear echoing for miles. I would lay in bed and the world would explode with thunder and lightening all through the night. And I loved it.

In New Orleans you cannot escape the heat and humidity. But in the summer, the afternoon rain was rather special. Like clockwork, after lunch, the air vibrating before you with tangible heat, suddenly, the skies would open and cool rain would fall in fat sloppy drops, drenching everything. An hour later, that moisture would seem more foe than friend as it fueled the relentless humidity. But still, it was a welcome daily break. Especially since I was working outdoors.

Here, in London, what is most notable about the weather is how much it changes. I think Americans have picked up the expression 'to talk about the weather' and to us it means a sense of boredom or lack of interest in some way. Because in the States, there is very little to talk about, when one talks about the weather. Newscasters can give accurate forecasts (most of the time) about not only what the entire day of weather will be, but often the next five days. You know what to wear, whether to have an umbrella. It's simple.

But not here. Here the weather is a fickle companion. Changing wildly and unexpectedly throughout the day. You cannot prepare for what may happen. Layers and an ever present umbrella are a necessity. And then there are the clouds. I have never seen such skies as I see in London. Like some painting that is trying too hard- the clouds here often seem like some Disney film creation. An ever changing show of depth and volume, light and color.

You can honestly talk about the weather here for quite a long time. Without being bored.