With winter over, one would think I'd stop complaining about the weather. I was very happy when the heat wave hit a few weeks ago. It is a memory now. Though the temperatures are pleasant enough, I have a bone to pick with Mother Nature's gamemanship in Boston.
I ride a motorcycle to and from work now that winter is through. I enjoyed taking the T when the streets were slippery but, frankly, it takes to long and it isn't as exhilerating as weaving through traffic to get stuck at the next red light. Don't get me kvetching about school buses, which are a subject for another rant. I am told that school ends in a week or two, so it will be postponed until September.
During my lunch break for the past two weeks it has been pleasantly sunny. I take of my jacket, roll up my sleeves and stroll around Mission Hill. I stop in a park and soak up some sunshine, wishing I could spend the whole afternoon doing just that. I look forward to watching the clock tick closer to quitting time.
Every day for the past two weeks, the sky has been overcast by the time I leave work. Some days it rains just as I get a quarter mile from home, and it's not a long commute. Most days it's just about ten degrees cooler than at noon. Today, I looked out the office window and saw that thunderheads were rolling in. The bottom of the cloud cover was like soiled cotton heavy with moisture. When I left the office, the wind was peeling the leaves back from the trees. Oh happy day!
It hasn't rained yet, though I have witnessed lightening striking over Dorchester Bay. The wind has died down and it may not rain at all, though some thunder just rolled overhead. Even if it doesn't rain, I have the feeling I am being gypped. I am from Connecticut, a stone's throw away in global terms, so you would think I'd be used to this kind of weather. No. I am from New London, Conn., a city where the sun always shines and every frown is turned upside down. My Seasonal Affective Disorder may last all year.