Nova Scotia, week one, November 2010.
Seven days and seven nights of rain.
Not just rain...downpours, raging torrents, deluge.
Wind enough to murder any umbrella foolish enough to open its presence.
No mercy and no end in sight...unrelenting.
Lakes swollen, quiet rivers turned to rapids, bridges washed away, surf pounding.
We're a small peninsula. Could we sink into the ocean from the constant pushing and shoving of water from above?
An assault from the sky.
The last colourful leaves violently ripped from the branches to which they have clung so valiantly...now wet, slippery splotches of faded rusts, golds and reds on the grass and pavement.
We are a happy people, always smiling, joking, friendly to a fault but we can only take so much.
The streets, malls, bus stops, office buildings filled with the hum of grumbling Bluenosers.
Rushing water, dancing dangerously close to the road down the hill.
Last night a switch was flipped...mercury dipped and the wind blew the clouds away.
Finally, sunshine.
Howling gales and cold temperatures replace the drenching clouds as the segue from autumn to winter begins.
Hurricanes will be replaced by blizzards.
Treasure the calm, clear days.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
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heidibeth
stephsalive
Terry Wiezorek
Colony of Losers
hugs, me
Dave Cullen
Salon.com
Comments
Good to see you!
I must say Puddle Duck I don't envy you the blizzards.
Kim, I'm not supposed to be writing anymore...sets you up for a fall. I'm just making an observation...yeah, that's it. I do love weather though and we're such a small place, sometimes I just like to tell people about what it's like here, so they don't forget about us. Don't knock blizzards until you've tried them. Yes, it is horrible if you're stuck driving in one or if you happen to be taking a 45 minute bus ride home that turns into 5 hours when there hadn't been a flake just hours before but if you don't have to go anywhere just picture it...you're cozied up inside, mug of cocoa or glass of red wine in hand. You stand in the window and are helpless to look away as the whole world turns white...gray roads, shapely green firs, papery birches all frosted with millions of tiny, fragile crystal flakes. The wind howls but everything is hushed at the same time. It really is something to behold.
Love the way you describe all of this in your piece and then again in your response to Kim. I feel the assault from the sky. I understand the peace of calm. "You stand in the window and are helpless to look away as the whole world turns white ... gray roads, shapely green firs, papery birches all frosted with millions of tiny, fragile crystal flakes. The wind howls, but everything is hushed at the same time." What landscapes you do paint with words.
I think you are supposed to be writing. If you didn't write, how much beauty and wonder and thoughfulness would we miss.
You are sweet. There was actually a time when I aspired to be a 'weather girl'. Meteorology fascinates me.
iq,
I love the heat but there's nothing quite like walking on a trail on a cold, crisp day and then coming home to a warm house and snuggling in. Instead of pretending to be a writer I think I will just make observations from time to time, just to share little bits of my world with others.
anna,
I think anyone can write about what they observe. I just write it as I see it. I love how the weather and the outdoors in general affect my mood and I just like to share it sometimes. You are too kind with your compliments. Truthfully, I adore where I live and I want people to know about it, even if I'm complaining about it at the time. I may very well write more in the future but I think my subject matter will be strictly little things I encounter in everyday life...like the rains of early November.