Nodding, Paul rapped Ives on the shoulder and for a moment, as they stood near the wall overlooking the river, something benevolent and fleeting passed between them but neither said a word. Then, as they started homeward, the sky began to darken; over the river, low to the horizon, a bank of bottom-heavy clouds, shaped like a man on his back. Later, within the hour, there would be a storm and heavy rains and hail would begin to fall.
A chance meeting between Ives and Paul, a young man who will eventually marry Ives' daughter. But I didn't pick this passage for the interaction between Paul and Ives. I picked this passage because of the description of weather. The dark clouds. Rain and hail.
It is late, and I am quite tired. So tired, in fact, that my head is aching and I'm having trouble focusing on the computer screen. I have been awake since 4 a.m.. It is now pushing 11 p.m. That's close to 15 hours of work and school and whatnot. (See, I'm so tired that I can't even remember everything I've done today.)
I am thankful for the weather today. It was warm and sunny. A change is coming tomorrow--rain and cold and, later in the day, snow. I am not thrilled by that last prediction. I was kind of hoping for a dry November. Doesn't look like that's going to happen.
Today, however, I am thankful for warm weather. That's about all I got tonight.
In a few minutes, Saint Marty is going to be thankful for his bed and pillows and blankets.
How about a poem about weather...
by: D. H. Melhem
Behind our cabin
cloud lay on the mountain
like a gray loaf
that thunder waits
Off the Top of My Head