![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
One thing that I've always found fascinating is how the shade of the sky changes with the temperature. A clear and bright summer sky looks different from a clear and bright winter sky, for example. There's some quality to the blue that I can't quite put my finger on, some difference that tells me, "Today is a cold day" or "today will be warm" before I even go outside. The difference is pronounced enough that I'm fairly confident that if I fell into a coma and awke months later, I'd be able to take one look at the sky and deduce the season by the way the sky looks.
It's the temperature of blue, the colour of hot and cold. It's a wonder to me that more people can't see the difference.
Then again, some people have been known to look at me as though I've just grown a third head (not just a second head, mind; that wouldn't be quite weird enough) when I tell them I can smell rain. It's not some awesome gift of the gods. It's not fakery. Damp air smells different from dry air, and approaching rainclouds carry a particular scent.
Though I can get mixed up when it's just recently rained, since the dampness is still all around. I can't tell the difference then between rain that's coming and rain that's already passed. I have to rely on the feel of the air and the look of the clouds.
It's sad to think that a lot of people have spent so long in cities, away from nature and nature's rhythms, that they can't tell the weather without turning on a television set anymore. When I have an easier time predicting the weather than people three times my age, people whose life experience ought to give them some indication, I feel sad and sorry for them. And I feel proud that I haven't slipped quite so far from nature, happy that I've still got some connection to life outside the concrete jungle.
The sky is warm today, a bright and dazzling blue that puts me more in the mind of high summer than early autumn. I suspect it won't stay that way for long, not with the cold we've been experiencing lately, so I think I'll go for a walk later and soak up some sunshine before the only sunshine left is thin and chilly.
It's the temperature of blue, the colour of hot and cold. It's a wonder to me that more people can't see the difference.
Then again, some people have been known to look at me as though I've just grown a third head (not just a second head, mind; that wouldn't be quite weird enough) when I tell them I can smell rain. It's not some awesome gift of the gods. It's not fakery. Damp air smells different from dry air, and approaching rainclouds carry a particular scent.
Though I can get mixed up when it's just recently rained, since the dampness is still all around. I can't tell the difference then between rain that's coming and rain that's already passed. I have to rely on the feel of the air and the look of the clouds.
It's sad to think that a lot of people have spent so long in cities, away from nature and nature's rhythms, that they can't tell the weather without turning on a television set anymore. When I have an easier time predicting the weather than people three times my age, people whose life experience ought to give them some indication, I feel sad and sorry for them. And I feel proud that I haven't slipped quite so far from nature, happy that I've still got some connection to life outside the concrete jungle.
The sky is warm today, a bright and dazzling blue that puts me more in the mind of high summer than early autumn. I suspect it won't stay that way for long, not with the cold we've been experiencing lately, so I think I'll go for a walk later and soak up some sunshine before the only sunshine left is thin and chilly.
