It may be an unpopular view, but I hate sunny days. Specifically, I hate sunny days that fill weeks and weeks of the year and never seem to end. Yes, I would be miserable in “sunny” places. This week, Ohio went from April to August. The weather was light and airy and then turned hot and sunny. Yes, I have a weather wound.
I grew up in Texas, where we’d go 60 or 70 days without rain during the summer. Some summers, we’d have highs over 100 degrees Fahrenheit for weeks. Clouds were scarce during these times. It was awful—because the sky and the environment didn’t change. My favorite writer, John Steinbeck, nailed it in his book Travels with Charley: In Search of America:
“I’ve lived in a good climate, and it bores the hell out of me.”
This week reminds me of those boring days when the skies get lazy and lose their creativity. It’s as if DJ Mother Nature took a smoke break, left the booth, and set the playlist to “repeat 1,” and we’re all stuck listening to the same song until she finishes the carton.
Ohio weather (usually) changes. It’s terrific for us short-attention-spanners. This week is one of those unchanging times that remind me how much I love living here and how my taste in weather is rather eclectic.