Friday, May 09, 2008

Constipated weather

You know the weather's constipated when you're rudely awoken from your sleep by loud claps of thunder but waking up a few hours later to horrid humid morning weather whether your face is oily, your skin is sticky and your hair's plastered to the nape of your neck by sweat.

It's a tease, the ominous dark clouds moving, rumbling thunder and the weather reports of showers expected but nothing to follow. On occasion, there's a little bit of a drizzle but nothing but sticky thick air. All that noise and hullaboo but no follow through. Typical. One would think the weather was controlled by the civil service.

So, my fondest wish, even if it'd probably mean the world's weather is more shot than it is now, is for it to snow. Snow damn it snow. Where are the Indian chiefs when you need them to do the rain or in my case, snow dance?


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Ondine tossed this thought in at 10:32

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" Far in the stillness, a cat languishes loudly"