This morning, just as everyone seemed to be getting out the door and on with their day, the skies opened up. The street went from speckled to soaked in an instant. And those rumbles in the distance? Not the garbage truck. You could practically hear the collective “aw, sh*t” across the eastern half of the state.
Except for the birds. They were lovin’ it. While stopped at a red light, I watched a posse of sparrows hopping and flapping and splashing in a giant curbside puddle. To them, the morning rainstorm was pure delight.
I need the rain. It reminds me to appreciate the sunshine and the flowers. That brighter days always lie ahead. It nourishes the trees that provide shade on my lunchtime walks and brings a twinkle to their leaves, which will soon turn fiery shades of orange, yellow, and red. I need the snowfall. It reminds me that warmer days will come. I need the hazy, hot, and humid days to remind me that a break is always just around the corner. I need it all.
If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome, then New England’s widely varying weather should be a source of comfort and peace of mind to its inhabitants.
Long story short: I simply refuse to complain about the weather. Sure, it gets me down sometimes, but a rainy day is just that. A day. It passes and I move forward. That’s the nature of nature.
_________________________________________________________________________ © 2010 Good Karma Housekeeping. Because my happily ever after has four seasons. (Photo by doortoriver via Creative Commons.)
One of my least favorite topics of conversation is the weather--only because it's usually riddled with complaints. Too hot, too cold, too sunny, too grey. I do my best to avoid ganging up on Mother Nature, even though she can be a tempramental lady sometimes. Occasionally though, she's a saint--delivering us an unexpected, gorgeous day.
My summer has been quiet but rich in simple pleasures. Soft-serve cones with rainbow sprinkles, outdoor yoga sessions, mini golf, sunrise walks and sunset runs, dramatic skies, leisurely seafood feasts, afternoons reading on the patio, quality time on park benches, fresh raspberries in my lemonade, sunbeam naps with my old cat, lush flowers beckoning me to stop and sniff. The list is long, but I've downloaded each and every sensation of the season.
I've been thinking a lot about bicycling lately. Mostly because I recently helped out my brother who was competing in a 12-hour mountain bike race, but also because I've noticed myself experiencing road rage toward the cyclists with whom I share the road.
Today is the first official day of my staycation, and I'm wrapping up the day with a glass of muscat that has been sitting in my wine rack for far too long. After all, I'm on vacation--so why not celebrate a little, right? It has been a long, leisurely day, complete with a yoga class, stroll through Boston's Public Garden, an iced Americano, a visit to a local day spa, lunch & dinner on my patio, and now a glass of dessert wine. [Edit: Add in a cup of vanilla soft serve with rainbow sprinkles.]
With the sky bright blue and a weekend without too many to-dos, I spent a lot of time outdoors this past weekend. Several hours reading--and marking up--my copy of 
