Everybody talks about the weather…

After at least 24 hours of blasting wind–frequently gusting up to 85 kms in the city–today was one of those pristine, warm sunny ones that in New England gives rise to the term “February thaw.” We are enough further north than I’ve ever lived that the difference from one (clear) day’s length to the next seems to be visible to the naked eye. It was going on 6 this evening when dusk fell, while only 10 days ago, it was 5, and ten days before that, it seemed to be dark by 4:30. None of this, of course, is intended to be a scientific observation!

This is the first clear evening I remember being abroad in some time: the moon is full and the sky seems starless–the first time I’ve even thought to look for stars here.

Just as the locals have been ever solicitous about how I am coping with cold, snow, sleet, slush, etc., I am now being warned against “falling for” this change in the temp. I have never met so many people who seem to take the weather as their personal cause to explain and excuse to someone from away. Being a fan of weather, I have no memory of ever being “sick of” any sort dealt except for the Santa Anas in LA, a weather form that I don’t even want to try to explain to Maritimers.

I am impressed at the vast improvement that weather forecasting seems to have developed across the years during which I wasn’t paying much attention (the Berkeley years of eternal spring). If, on Tuesday, the forecast for the weekend includes both sun on one day and clouds the next, by golly, that’s what seems to occur. Although the locals assure me that weather forecasting is just as dicey as my old memories of it.

But it’s been three and a half months since I’ve arrived, and, so far, there’s been a lot of talk about the weather, a lot of accurate forecasting, and–no, no one has done a thing to change any of it.


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