Busy, Vibrant Spring

Something about May calls busy-ness and calendar claustrophobia, the sensation in which one looks at the calendar and sees so many of the dates filled that it brings a sense of time closing in like falling cavern walls.

But after the cold has locked away the winter, and drudging through the early spring rains has left everyone locking themselves away to avoid the damp, the warm flowery touch of spring evokes a socializing frenzy. People burst free of their isolation and want to greet and play. And of course spring comes with bittersweet goodbyes as the end of a college year leads to masses of motion, followed by joyful hellos at returning friends.

It's meet-and-greet-and-farewell strawberry season, with sweet sunshine lingering through the evening, making days seem longer and giving the illusion that time is eternal. Stagnated bikes and hiking boots see new light and winter weight gets thrashed by the energy of 9 o'clock sunsets. Bright sundresses one would not dare expose in harsh cold get donned again, and cute outfits beg for the see-and-be-seen, bright colors and cheerful fabrics echoing the cheer of flower-strewn sidewalks and trees and cracks in the pavement. Everyone has more verve and more vibrancy, and not using it would be like encouraging stale cheesecake and rotten mangoes, curdled milk and moldy filet mignon.

Spring is a march of hectic energy, a wild free-for-all of things that suddenly can be done again. And yet, it's also the lashing storms and winds of too-much, the deluge of things-to-do. It's vibrant celebration dogged by exhausted collapse, wild flowing rivers a little too close to the banks of human limit for comfort.

Some people thrive on it, and others enjoy it but yearn for the slower pace of sedate summer. Do your springs tremble on the edge of too much, or is it just right, the perfect soil to bring out your best blooms?

Flowers and Butterflies

The thing about winter is the long, cold, dreary days where it's too frigid to turn your face to the sun and let the day warm you.

But if you're willing to drive a bit, you might find yourself by the Durham Museum of Life and Science. And if you wander in and out and into the cold, and then inside again, you may find yourself in a tropical paradise filled with flowers butterflies.

It'll be easy to find on the museum map, since it's called the butterfly house.

And once you've enjoyed the flowers and the butterflies, you can maybe climb the giant treehouse. Yes, it's still cold outside, but come on. Giant tree house.

Museums are often aimed at kids, but there's no reason adults can't drop in and enjoy the flowers, too. Makes a nice break from winter, at least.

Bad weather days vs work from home?

 

 

 

 

 

A picture from our last ice storm.

It'll be an icy wonderland in NC today (wonderland??? Is that the best word?). One of those days where the forecast has changed six times in three days as to how much ice, when it will begin, and how terrible the weather will be. Not surprisingly, everyone plans on working from home if at all possible.

Do you have the option to work from home? Do you like it, or do you miss when an ice day was just a day off?

Fall officially arrives Wednesday

It's the time of year when fall flowers proliferate in yards and roadsides, and wild asters and mums and solidago pepper the sides of paths and sidewalks.

It's the sort of damp, drowsy weather that requires tea-based hot chocolate, and speaks of shorter days and longer nights.

It's the promise of cats agreeing to curl up in laps in exchange for warmth, and books and tea piling up on side tables.

It's fog in the mornings and nights, and sun in the mid-afternoons; it's three layers of jacket to sweater to T-shirt in the course of a single day.

It's tantalizing hints of color in the trees, and the scent of cinnamon in the mornings, and the loss of warm summer nights. And this Wednesday, it will officially be here.

NC summers

Early summer is the time for flowers.

Yes, in North Carolina, early summer sometimes starts in April, or even March in the years we "skip spring." That's only to be expected. Usually, though, early summer is May and early June.

By June, the summer lilies are everywhere, blooming and fresh and alive. You walk outside and it's a wonderland, a humid and sticky-aired wonderland averaging about 80 to 90 degrees F. Some people appreciate this more than others (I like hot weather.)

From May to September, you don't go outside without getting dewy (that's a Southern euphemism for "sweaty," FYI). And if you make it to the heat of the afternoon, in April through mid July you're likely to see heat-storms roll through, those flash thunderstorms that are lightning-filled and frequently laden with a good, drenching rain. By late July through August these become less frequent, more often than not sans the rain when they do hit, and filled thick with heat lightning that doesn't always hit the ground.

Technically a Florida storm, but the
NC ones are quite similar.

That's partly because the water gets cooked out of the sky. By late July through August and up to mid September, the weather hovers in the mid-90s (32-37 C), and in late August and early September hits the occasional 100 degree mark (or about 37.78 C). Even heat-lovers like me take refuge into the air conditioned indoors during the heat of the day. Of course, in NC it's still humid and sticky, because that's how we roll in these parts, but the summer storms aren't enough to alleviate the usual August drought.

Taking pictures in low light is fun.

We've got a saying for those long, dreary months of rainy spring: "We'll be glad for this come August." Because everyone remembers a drought. Everyone who has grown up here can tell you about the months where ponds wither into puddles, and the springtime hip-deep section of this lake or that lake is naught but a muddy, silty wish.

Then comes September, October, November. The time of storms, and hurricanes. Mid-September is when the first hint of not-hot reappears in the morning air, when sometimes the slightly spicy scent of soon-to-turn leaves plays calendar peek-a-boo. This game usually continues into October, sometimes right through Halloween into the wee hours of November (around here, those extra-long summers are what we call an Indian summer), but other years just dipping its feet into the pumpkin month, dropping the first actual chill into the air right on time for the State Fair.

In the hottest years, all those lilies are gone by late May. Usually we expect them to stay through June and into July, with the blight of heat killing green from late July through early September. But once September crawls back around, the golden wheat-relatives that sway in the place of grass beside the highways become dotted again with green, and pansies and mums begin taking over the flower beds.

What is summer in your region like?

Using weather in a story

Do you use the weather to write?

I always feel inspired to write during storms. Thankfully, I have a laptop with a long-lasting battery, so I can disconnect it from the wall during lightning storms.

For a while, I had a storms CD. When I was having a spot of trouble getting inspired, I'd close the blinds and play the CD, and pretend there was a storm raging behind me. It helped. Because, I've noticed, there's always action in storms.

Often, the weather is just a background, a setting that doesn't influence the story all that much. But sometimes, active weather becomes a part of the story. Melting sun? That's active weather; it interferes with the characters' actions. Driving snow? A blizzard makes it hard to see, disrupts radio signals, and makes going outside dangerous. Pouring rain, lightning, and whipping wind? It's all fun and games until someone has to try to fight in it.

The sequel to Into the Tides has the working title Derecho right now. A derecho is a type storm system that's basically a long line of powerful, fast-moving storms with winds that blow in the direction it's going. The title may well change as the manuscript continues, but it refers to the fact that magic has played havoc with the weather, and so the weather will be a minor character in the story.

How do you use weather to strengthen your scenes? Do happy moments happen in sunny, cheerful weather? Do your storms do more than set the mood--do they play a part in how the events take place? Or is your weather a backdrop, a hint at the mood of the story without playing an active role in it?

In which books has weather been an active character? What books do you think use weather to the best effect?