Parsing the Weather

 

Parsing the Weather

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If you know me at all, by now, you know I’m obsessed by weather.  Blame my Dad. He instilled the trait in me that day we stood side-by-side on the ditch bank, scanning the sky for the least wisp of cloud, in that dry, dusty summer when I was so young. Once instilled, the weather virus flourished.

I, of all people, know that the only real way to tell weather is to step outside, look, listen, smell, poke your hand under the elements, and feel. Predictions are seldom reliable.

Take yesterday. I sat at the computer and the little tease at the bottom left screen said, “cooling trend the next five days”. I opened the weather tab to check the details. It showed warmer temps for the following five days. Probably another AI glitch. AI is good at glitches. Probably meant to say, “cooking trend the next five days”.

Rain is falling, listlessly. Has been for the last couple hours. Barely sprinkling. The sky is getting lighter so I predict the sprinkle will end soon.  There is no wind. Temp this morning is 68. Humidity is extreme. UV is extreme. AQI is good. Air pressure is up and down like a yo-yo, which for me, translates to an Arthritic Pain Index of extreme.

In an hour, all the above will have shifted except for that final measure, which I call the API. In other words, normal.

Me, I’m having a good day. The house is reasonably clean and tidy. I’ve freshly baked bread on the counter, a tray of cookies in the oven, a slab of salmon thawing for dinner.

I’m also having a sad day while a little rain falls down my face. Two good, close friends recently have been diagnosed with cancer. At our ages, this is common, right? That doesn’t make it any easier because I’m selfish and want to keep my close friends close as long as I can.

 I’ve become more consciously diligent lately to tell my friends that I love them, to let them know I care.

It’s your turn. Most of you know me better than I know you. I read the obituaries. Some people I know well, some names I know. I’m aware the names unknown to me were neighbors, that perhaps we passed by one another way back when at the library in Chinook or on the street in Havre or at the car show in Turner or driving on the highways. Each Passing Beyond gives me pause for respect and honor and caring.

I believe there are variations in degrees of loving, similar to the air quality index, perhaps. I may not know you well enough to know your moods and desires, that you love lilacs and can’t stand the smell of brussels sprouts, that your heart has been broken and that you are a Cubs fan.

On my Love Quality Index, I can always say I love you and I don’t want to lose you and when you hurt, I hurt too. So, here it is. I love you. I care. I give you honor and respect as the human being you are.

In this short time, rain has stopped, the temperature is rising, clouds are parting for the sun. I love you.

Sondra Ashton

Looking out my back door

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