When I was young, nothing could have been more boring than discussions of the weather. That was for old folks and farmers as far as I was concerned. Then along came Al Gore and the debate over climate change. I remembered discussions of pollution way back in the 1960’s before grown-up life, bills, and children got in the way. Suddenly, the repercussions of all my undone “earth science” homework bubbled to the surface of my brain and weather became very interesting indeed.
“What an unusual winter we’ve had,” friends have been saying for the last five years or so. “Our summer is too hot. Do you think it’s climate change?”
Of course, there are some who, by the very fact that a democrat brought the subject to center stage, deny that climate change is real at all. “In the millions of years that the earth has been spinning, mankind has only been here a few thousand. We couldn’t possibly know that climate change is occurring because it happens over hundreds, if not thousands of years.” (Interesting how several of these good folks pound on bibles and claim that the earth began only about six days before mankind started).
But whether or not our earth is heating up, our greenhouse gases are building, or our ozone is gone, weather is becoming more interesting all the time. Particularly here in Littleton. On Sunday, a day I was inside all day for a dance program, the temperatures hit seventy and yesterday, we had snow. I stayed inside voluntarily.
My crocuses, the miniatures at least, have been creeping out of the earth in cheery tones of yellow and purple. Today, I had to brush the snow aside to see the tiny darlings hovered over in the cold.
I’m not sure why this year particularly I’m so anxious for spring. Perhaps it’s that so many people have had bad flu bugs (don’t they every winter?), or maybe it’s because the cold weather has been very cold this year. A third, and probably more realistic cause for this anxiety is that I love getting outside, if only for lunchtime, and truly enjoy the sun. It lifts my spirits and provides wonderful daydreaming opportunity. I always feel more upbeat when the warmer weather hits.
Spring in Littleton begins just about this time every year and lasts through Mother’s Day, when the last frosts are expected, and we can go officially dig in the garden without worry that our veggies and other delicate plants will catch their death of cold. I was going to meet a friend for coffee this morning. He would have been talking about baseball, no doubt. He’s a big fan. Unfortunately, he caught a winter bug. Looks like spring ballgames are on hold for him.
Back at my desk, I’m behind on that short story project of mine. Did I ever tell you that one of my nicknames is Last-Minute-Liesa?
Even with the sun shining, and temperatures rising enough to melt the dusting of snow we had yesterday, I have to stay inside to do my work. Something absolutely must happen to Joy today, and I’m the bad guy who has to make that so. I have to make Joy’s reader understand why ghosts haunt her in particular. Very dark stuff on such a glorious day as I see out my window. But this is the life of a fiction writer. And luckily for me, spring in Littleton provides enough cold and hot, light and dark, winter and summer-like feelings to give me plenty of opportunity to develop a good story.
How about you? Does weather affect how you work and play? Do you feel more creative with sunny days or do “dark and stormy nights” provide your inspiration?
Here’s hoping we can all take our winter sweaters to the cleaners soon for packaging up until the fall. Have a great spring day, no matter the weather.