For the past 24 hours I’ve been treated to a deluge of epic proportions, and from the look of the radar, there’s no end in sight. Flood warnings, traffic accidents, and dogs who refuse to go outside to do their business are all par for the course. Somehow even the open spaces feel claustrophobic.
Construction workers have been driven indoors, sporting events have been cancelled, and there’s a sense of restlessness throughout the city, a feeling of nervous energy that cannot be discharged. Everyone is waiting, postponing, rescheduling and sleeping in. Rush hour is less rushed, but not for lack of trying. TV weathermen are looking rather nervous, as if they expect people to hold them responsible.
I can’t imagine living in an area where this type of weather is the norm. I suspect that somewhere out there there’s a study of such places that indicates higher instances of depression, suicide, and violent crime. It kind of feels as if the planet is trying to hold you back, and it makes you jittery. People get rattled when their routines are disrupted.
On the other hand, since this is surely just a passing phase for my city, I’m enjoying the fact that I am sleeping much more soundly, breathing much better, not experiencing any allergies, and reveling in the concept that everything feels so clean.
Sometimes you just need a good deluge to wash away all the residue in your life.
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