<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/climate-control/”>Climate Control</a>
It’s amazing how something as simple as the way the sun reflects off of the clouds that can change your perception about an event. Right now, here in Boston, the sky is covered with grey and you can tell that at any moment the mist is going to become something different. For some people that might be a bad thing and others will look at it with a differing point of view.
Days like today deserve there own little category, dream weather. Why would cloudy, rainy, 42 degree days make me smile? After all of the work has been done, after everything has been accomplished for the day, the thought of just wrapping up in a blanket and reading something sounds wonderful.
There was a basic priority when I was back in Maryland several weeks ago, and the top of the list was to package up an afghan my mother had made me. Designed for two people to curl up under, at least 9 feet long and close to 4 feet across, I wanted to bring it back with me. The cold effects me a little differently than it used to, but that’s just medication and a little weight loss. Where this used to be shorts and a sweatshirt day now I am including long pants. A minor concession to my health that I’m willing to make.
Yesterday’s prompt about guilt just about had me captured for the rest of the day. The treatise I could have written on the subject rolled around my mind for hours. Fortunately something got in the way to break that pattern, otherwise it might have swallowed me whole. Sitting, waiting for some more of those dumb tests to be taken so I could get back to work, actual office work was fantastic.
Why mention yesterday? Because what saved me was being forced to walk outside for a little while. It wasn’t far, but that fresh air can clear your mind even if I no longer destroy sneakers on pavement. Ten minutes was all it took. Than I could get back to dealing with things that needed to be addressed.
I no longer look on those sunny, cold days of winter the same way. That’s the curse of linking the weather with some dramatic event. While I know that people need that break, to have an unexpected warmth come about in the middle of what sometimes feels like endless freezing weather; I just can’t appreciate it the same way anymore. The memory of having had a good day end differently makes those days hard.
Every time my mother tells me the story about the day her father first took me for a walk, she has to remind me that the weather in Lowell, Massachusetts was 20 degrees and 6 inches of snow on the ground as he pushed my stroller. I was only a week old, no way I remember that! All bundled up in a blanket to protect my face, him pushing his first grandchild around like the proud man he was of anything I did.
I remember the weather the day any person I cared about has passed.
I know that the morning I found out I was going to be a father was warm and sunny.
I remember how hot it was the day friends got married in a church with no air conditioning, with the rain pounding down. Only to wake up the next day to clear skies and 30 degree cooler weather. [we joked it was a sign it wasn’t going to last, they’ve been married for 21 years!]
Every story has some reference to the weather in it. It’s part of the setting that helps the reader relate to the character or place in time. Those details help draw you in.
Today would have been a good day for my grandfather to have been around to kick my backside. He’d be 94 and most likely still telling me he could knock me over if I didn’t behave or listen. “You may be 7 inches taller than me, but I can still knock you to the ground!” I loved those words, he might have been able to do it to!
He would have just grabbed a jacket and said, let’s get moving.