Complaining about the Weater, Part 523
Back in New York.
Back in my comfort zone. Back amoung the streetlights and busses and trains and narrow streets and looming buildings and deep shadows and milling people and constant noise and everything else I've grown up with and feel vaguely uneasy without.
Well, comfortable for everything except the weather.
I'm lucky - it's only chilly, not freezing. I managed to dodge the huge wave of freeze and snow that washed over the NorthEast, and now it's back to normal fall weather. The 50s feel a lot less obnoxious in the end of October then they do in the begining of September. And it's been raining all week since I got home - which is at least predictable, unlike the sudden shifts from brightsunlight to pouring rain that kept taking me by surprise in Florida. (Although that rainstorm on Miami Beach as the sun went down was expected and pretty cool.)
And fall.
It's so pretty, but I hardly ever notice.
I don't really appreciate fall when it comes on gradually. When there's a little more day after day, it's just a another depressing reminder of how summer is over, and how freedom and warmth are being replaced by school/work and the invetible freezing cold. But coming into it suddenly, when it's in full bloom against the cold dark sky, when I can tell and be sure that the air smells different, and tastes different, and everything feels changed - it's stunning.
I still know, subconciously, that it's really a constant surrounding sign of death, and of the invetibility of winter, and of how miserable and nasty the weather will be for the next few months. But it's still beautiful.
Back in my comfort zone. Back amoung the streetlights and busses and trains and narrow streets and looming buildings and deep shadows and milling people and constant noise and everything else I've grown up with and feel vaguely uneasy without.
Well, comfortable for everything except the weather.
I'm lucky - it's only chilly, not freezing. I managed to dodge the huge wave of freeze and snow that washed over the NorthEast, and now it's back to normal fall weather. The 50s feel a lot less obnoxious in the end of October then they do in the begining of September. And it's been raining all week since I got home - which is at least predictable, unlike the sudden shifts from brightsunlight to pouring rain that kept taking me by surprise in Florida. (Although that rainstorm on Miami Beach as the sun went down was expected and pretty cool.)
And fall.
It's so pretty, but I hardly ever notice.
I don't really appreciate fall when it comes on gradually. When there's a little more day after day, it's just a another depressing reminder of how summer is over, and how freedom and warmth are being replaced by school/work and the invetible freezing cold. But coming into it suddenly, when it's in full bloom against the cold dark sky, when I can tell and be sure that the air smells different, and tastes different, and everything feels changed - it's stunning.
I still know, subconciously, that it's really a constant surrounding sign of death, and of the invetibility of winter, and of how miserable and nasty the weather will be for the next few months. But it's still beautiful.