Phenomenal Weather

What do you consider perfect weather? Clear skies with a light breeze and temperature warm enough to forgo a jacket but cool enough not to perspire? A night so still and soft that the weathermen declare an air stagnation warning (they actually do happen, it warns that the air over a location may be so calm that pollution doesn't even blow away)? A midsummer evening's sunset with crickets and cicadas dueling for the loudest-critter-on-your-back-porch contest?

Those of you who know me know that I typically prefer the aberrant behavior of weather, when Mother Nature has a bad day and unleashes her fury upon us mortals. Yes, I can appreciate the occasional sunny day, crisp morning, and full moon. Though, if given the option, send a blizzard any day (especially in August). Both a light drizzle and an inundating downpour serve the same purpose, but the occasional torrent just feels more special. It's like asking if you would prefer ten packets of mayo from Burger King or an all expenses paid trip to the Hard Rock Cafe in London. At the end of it all, you ingested one of two equally unhealthy meals, but one ruined your day and the other highlighted it.

Due to my duty as engineer of the project, I get to oversee construction. When I say oversee, I actually mean ensure it happens and to a satisfactory standard. Thankfully, I have someone who hires, directs, and pays the laborers. But I still monitor progress and certainly notice when nothing happens. And here is where the dilemma begins. Either I get a day with weather that I love and hate or I get a day with weather that I adore and loathe. Allow me to explain. When the clouds vanish and the sun blazes down upon us, the project progresses because the men can dig and the internet functions. But if the heavens attempt to quench the Dante's Inferno, then emails cease as quickly as the construction. It's a daily, or sometimes hourly, battle between gratifying my wishes. Finish the project soon or appreciate the atmospheric phenomena.

Yesterday was a day of fantastic meteorological conditions, by any account or standard. For starters, the sun shone brilliantly, even endowing me with my first major African sunburn. Last night, Victor and I watched the western horizon drift from yellow to orange to red to black. But the final shift occurred after dark. I strode home at 8 pm under a crystal-clear, moonless night with only lightning to guide my way. Strange, no? The numerous hills had trapped a thunderstorm over the lake but the lightning continued to illuminate my way. And thus my sabbath began.



This photo is a jab at all you "Pollution Pansies" who don't appreciate side effects of adulterating our atmosphere.