I am a native in this world And think in it as a native thinks

Thursday, July 7, 2011

Microclimates


Even for the British Isles, the weather in Loch Lomond has been remarkably indecisive. It's not just that it drizzles, then the sun comes out, then the rain pours down, all in the space of fifteen minutes; frequently it does all of them at the same time. More than once when I was out walking around in my plastic rain poncho, I'd be sweating from the sun beating down on me, but I couldn't take the stupid thing off because I was also being rained on. This morning I was sitting on my deck looking at a magazine when the sound of rain made me look up. It was raining, rather hard, on the deck next to me, but I was still dry, apart from the occasional ricochet.

I haven't actually read much since I've been here, and I haven't bought a paper or turned on the TV, because I'm finding the weather more than enough entertainment. The endless parade of microclimates, the light peeking through, growing, and then suddenly vanishing, the way the fields to my left can be bathed in sunlight while in front of me it's raining -- sometimes it actually makes me laugh out loud.

And the midges, by the way, seem to be bothered even less by the rain than I am.

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