Today, today I’m supposed to write some anodyne bit about weather? That was my first thought, but treadmill time (so not the same as Mill Creek, but needs must, eh?) allows for some pondering and I will take a stab at this gratitude for weather thing after all.
I’ve mentioned in prior posts, or on social media, or complaining to friends, or shaking my fist to God that Walla Walla gets these awful inversions during the winter. Awful only begins to describe a blanket of low-hanging fog that is gray and misty but not in a terribly gothic romance sort of way because the air smells of a pulp mill, cattle feed lots, and maybe a chicken-rendering plant? I don’t know, it’s an unholy smell combined with this dense misery of cold and moisture. Winters are hard here not just because it’s cold and dark. Trust me. There’s layers to this purgatory.
But I’ll tell you something pretty great. Sometimes it snows and we get bright blue skies afterward. Sometimes the wind blows–a little too vigorously for my taste from time to time–but it does blow that funk out of our valley. That’s what I love about weather. It changes. It is the best example I know to illustrate the only constant is change. What seems interminable doesn’t last; it will change, just like the weather does.
Feryl Files 
I started hating winter when we lived in WNC, and then we moved to Ohio & I REALLY hated it. Hated it so much that I couldn’t enjoy fall. But then I went through menopause, and of course there was climate change, so I started being able to appreciate fall without dreading winter so much. But through it all, yes, the fact that the weather changes is a blessing.
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That’s so lovely, Dana, thank you. What a high compliment.
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