- We are a species constantly trying to grasp at any sense of control we can find, regarding who we are and the trajectory of our lives. Yet, we are deeply affected on a daily basis by something that the average person has scant explanation for: the state of the weather.
- Weather is a determinant for where you choose to live, what you choose to wear, where you choose to spend your day, what you crave for lunch and dinner, how tired you are when your alarm goes off, how you feel, and how easily that could all change. I live in New York, partly, for the four seasons. I miss California sometimes for the opposite reason.
- In New York, the continuous rush of people and activities is reflected in the movement of the seasons. Each week’s temperature plays an active role in our next inevitable transition of season or identity, in a state of flux between taking advantage of the moment and begging for it to pass. In California, the people move slower and life appears to be more stable, until the atmosphere reaches its inevitable crescendo when the hills start to burn.
- When it rains, it is hard to get out of bed and it is hard to leave the apartment– but it is wonderful to listen to and absurd to look at. The world goes from being dry to wet and you don’t even need to see or hear it to know–you can smell it on the streets, you can feel it in your steps. The weather is intertwined with your being. It can awaken certain parts of you and put others to rest, as a direct response to the world that your body is not only a part of, but made of.
- The pouring down of water from the skies above is innately poetic and therefore often used as a metaphor– as are all types of weather: monsoons, drought, heat waves, foggy mornings, a summer breeze, the blooming of spring… Our emotional ties to weather run deep, each quality of the atmosphere encouraging us to use our senses in a different way and discover new parts of how we feel. In turn, weather becomes a tool we use to process our lives.
- Taylor Swift’s discography mentions rain at least 20 times:
“Oh, and it rains in your bedroom / Everything is wrong / It rains when you’re here / And it rains when you’re gone.”
- The intensity of the sun illuminates bodies and temperament. There are more crimes in the summer and more people on the streets. We rub up against each other and still feel free. The ease of movement and speed of thought produced by the rapidly moving molecules, creating heat in the air, determines what I will do and what I will say. The weather creates a sort of ungraspable fate.
- When the streets eventually empty and my puffer is all you can see of me, we no longer spark conversations spontaneously. We transition to quiet dinners and warm wine. We retreat, as if no different from the animals of the wild. We watch our breath become vapor in the air and try not to waste it—anything we can hold close, we will take.
- Just as songs take me back to who I was when I needed them, transitions between seasons take me back to who I’ve been becoming for years. It is a cycle of rebirth inevitably accompanied by a mourning for what we will never quite have again. Each of life’s seasons remain within us, perhaps fragmented and faded, but providing clarity for what may be ahead. After all, we have survived the harsh winter more than once. We will shed our skin if needed, build again if needed, or swaddle ourselves in our past.
- Autumn triggers such reflection most acutely. The changing of the trees we know so well serves as a consistent signifier of change– that things are not the same and yet they are what they always have been. The changing of the seasons calls for redefinition. In the case of the trees, complete transformation. The colors of the leaves change and then cease to exist, providing us with ample opportunity to reconvene with ourselves without the attention of the beating sun.
- The seasons are cyclical, creating built-in check points: What songs are on my new playlist, do I need to add anything to my wardrobe, what is something I can do now that I couldn’t before, what do I miss about who I was when it was warm? I used to be flooded in the fall with memories of high school football games and school supplies, now I reminisce on the smells of a home cooked meal accompanied by mulled wine. I think of the holiday markets and the old brownstones, I think of the leaves and rushed walks home, I think of February and all its lost hope, in the beginnings of the new year but in a winter that feels endless. That is until, I am sweating in the palm of the sun, again. Exhaling, again.
Currently Listening:
- When We Are Together and Oh Caroline by the 1975
- Karma and Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve by Taylor Swift
- Popcast: Taylor Swift’s ‘Midnights’: Let’s Discuss
