the weather of the last few weeks has been so inconsistent, to the point of being predictable. hot, hot days and nights sprinkled with pockets of thunderstorms (large raindrops and all). looking out the window, you wouldn't know that the atmosphere was the extreme opposite only a few minutes ago.
i tried to think of reasons why i love summer. it would have been better if i had been in college, even high school, when summer meant long vacation. idle days in front of the tv or pc. nights spent reading in bed until the wee hours. nowadays it just meant having rain-free weather for weeks. i'm not big on going to beaches, so it doesn't really matter. but i do love an opportunity to wear my shades for long periods of time.
this summer, however, has been bordering on hellish. i don't mind a warmer-than-usual climate, but this year i can't help being reminded by the blast of heat on my face. every time i complained i keep thinking that i never complained before. or if i did, it was merely to commisserate. this time it was for real.
i wasn't much happier with the rain, though. bracing yourself for both the heat and the cold is a bit confusing. just this morning i felt silly waking up in the bus wearing my beloved pair of dark sunglasses while the rain was pouring outside. and merely an hour ago the early morning sun promised blinding light.
the soft patter of rain in the wee hours is my favorite companion. whether engrossed in a book (romance novels are best) or pouring my heart out through free verse and prose, rain seems to lend a different persepective. wallowing in loneliness and despair is never more effective.
strange how odd we think of brits because of their preoccupation with the weather. they may have stumbled on something there that we remain ignorant of.
