Mostly Cloudy 1-29-10

Anderson, South Carolina

Expectation is a fascinating thing to observe and even more so to experience. I got up this morning and went outside, a full month after the winter solstice, with the expectation of a wintry blast that would chase me back into the confines of the house. My mission had been to drag the city trashcan back into the garage. Imagine my surprise when I found it to be precisely 64 degrees. An expansive sensibility erupted in my soul and I immediately put up both garage doors knowing I would be ‘let out’ for the day. I was going to be on bonus time, and I would actually be able to glue up cabinets and do painting tasks that don’t fare well in winter temperatures.

How could something as benign as 64-degree air seem wondrous, nearly numinous in nature? I grew up in Southern California, where 64-degree air in January was as ordinary as the dense smog that sealed off the stars and sun from my view. I expected it be mild in California every day. It rarely was otherwise. We denizens of the stucco jungle never gave the weather a thought. The only ‘weather’ we ever thought about was the kind that caused waves to pass along fault lines during earthquakes. Certainly, the world is presently especially aware of the consequences of waves passing along fault lines under cities.

In the South we think about weather often. It is highly variable. I recall May 8, 1993 when 68 inches of snow fell just north of here on Mt. Pisgah. This blue white wonderland was absolutely unexpected and it brought out the child in thousands of us. In May in the Deep South we normally start thinking about the emergency of feisty Asian Tiger mosquitoes and super-saturated humidity. A blue white wonderland was a big time bonus. I celebrated it by taking a hike up Mount Pisgah and having a picnic lunch with friends on top, where we enjoyed stewed fruit in stemmed glasses along with hot croissants. Dinner was shrimp scampi in the Pisgah Inn on the Blue Ridge Parkway. A rumor of hot water problems cause cancellations of room reservations and a friend and I were actually able to get a room, at a discount no less! Mind you, this is one of those places you book a year ahead. The next day we ate a picnic lunch under a sunny sky on the grounds of the Biltmore Estate outside of Asheville, not thirty miles away. Air temperature? Almost 75 degrees.

We think about weather in this part of the world. Sometimes it is rather frightening such as when a three-inch crust of ice takes down half the trees and all the power lines. Winter storm warnings are up and I might just be out taking pictures tomorrow morning of a world enshrined in crystal. I always marvel at how the incredible beauty of a world that looks like it is clad in Baccarat crystal on a clear morning can be so deadly. Looks are deceiving. I’m chopping a pile of wood today just in case that crystal shatters the infrastructure that keeps my house warm around winter solstice.

Wind? An F5 tornado will instantly suck the tranquility right out of your world. It might actually suck your world out of existence. I don’t want to do one of these again. Hugo and Andrew are not names often given to newborns any more in this part of the world. I’ve ‘done’ a category 4 hurricane in late November at sea; making me really glad this water world we live on has some solid parts to it.

We think about weather in this part of the world. Sometimes it is magic. Today the air is calm and warm. There is no golden sunshine today but you won’t find me griping. I’m going back outside to ‘play’. The forecast is for snow and ice tonight.

Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens, your faithfulness to the clouds. PS 36:5