Sunny Weather Quotes

Just for the record, the weather today is calm and sunny, but the air is full of bullshit.

The perfect weather of Indian Summer lengthened and lingered, warm sunny days were followed by brisk nights with Halloween a presentiment in the air.

London on a gloomy and rainy day is still better than Paris on a bright and sunny day.

He cursed himself for having assumed the weather would be sunny. Perhaps it was the result of evolution, he thought--some adaptive gene that allowed the English to go on making blithe outdoor plans in the face of almost certain rain.

I’ve found that it’s of some help to think of one’s moods and feelings about the world as being similar to weather. Here are some obvious things about the weather: It's real. You can't change it by wishing it away. If it's dark and rainy, it really is dark and rainy, and you can't alter it. It might be dark and rainy for two weeks in a row. BUT it will be sunny one day. It isn't under one's control when the sun comes out, but come out it will. One day. It really is the same with one's moods, I think. The wrong approach is to believe that they are illusions. Depression, anxiety, listlessness - these are all are real as the weather - AND EQUALLY NOT UNDER ONE'S CONTROL. Not one's fault. BUT They will pass: really they will. In the same way that one really has to accept the weather, one has to accept how one feels about life sometimes, "Today is a really crap day," is a perfectly realistic approach. It's all about finding a kind of mental umbrella. "Hey-ho, it's raining inside; it isn't my fault and there's nothing I can do about it, but sit it out. But the sun may well come out tomorrow, and when it does I shall take full advantage.

I'm like the weather, never really can predict when this rain cloud's gonna burst; when it's the high or it's the low, when you might need a light jacket. Sometimes I'm the slush that sticks to the bottom of your work pants, but I can easily be the melting snowflakes clinging to your long lashes. I know that some people like: sunny and seventy-five, sunny and seventy-five, sunny and seventy-five, but you take me as I am and never forget to pack an umbrella.

Sunny. Proves rich or poor doesn’t matter, if you ask me. Some people are just born happy. I think that’s the luckiest thing. If you’re sunny inside, you never have to worry about the weather.

If you feel stronger and good when the weather is sunny, and weaker and bad when the weather is cloudy, then it means your willpower is not powerful yet!

Of course,” Connor replies. “Your daughter is already more articulate than you are, so really, I like Sulli more than I like you.” Connor sips his coffee again like he just professed the weather: sunny with a side of fuck you. Ryke flips him off. The more direct approach to a fuck you.

Who can fail to mist at Fergie's anthem, 'My humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps.' Hmmm. 'My lunch, my lunch, I swear it's coming up.

I think it would be funny to have one of those family decals showing a really skinny teenage girl barfing into a little chalk-outline bag (the bulimic in the family) or the dad figure dressed in the woman's underwear that he truly enjoys slipping into when no one's looking. Or the wife figure smiling with her exaggerated curly hair and tennis skirt, clutching a racket in one hand and a bottle of Stoli' in the other.

I am very close to HIM, sometimes I think I am HIM, with my mood is the weather,bright and sunny forever.

I hope the coffee is good and strong and the croissants fresh and that the weather is still sunny.

[Reverend James] Dobson says that the [Spongebob Squarepants] video would be watched by millions of elementary school students and includes a reference to being 'tolerant of differences.' The nerve! Who does Spongebob think he is? Jesus Christ? Tolerance will not be, uh, tolerated. Oh, and tolerance is quite possibly closesly connected to gay-ance.

Hello, Olympus! Aeolus, master of the winds here, with weather every twelve! We‘ll have a low-pressure system moving over Florida today, so expect milder temperatures since Demeter wishes to spare the citrus farmers!‖ He gestured at the blue screen, but when Jason checked the monitors, he saw that a digital image was being projected behind Aeolus, so it looked like he was standing in front of a U.S. map with animated smiley suns and frowny storm clouds. ―Along the eastern seaboard—oh, hold on.‖ He tapped his earpiece. ―Sorry, folks! Poseidon is angry with Miami today, so it looks like that Florida freeze is back on! Sorry, Demeter. Over in the Midwest, I‘m not sure what St. Louis did to offend Zeus, but you can expect winter storms! Boreas himself is being called down to punish the area with ice. Bad news, Missouri! No, wait. Hephaestus feels sorry for central Missouri, so you all will have much more moderate temperatures and sunny skies.

We thank Thee, Lord, for happy hearts, for rain and sunny weather. We thank Thee, Lord for this our food, and that we are together. Amen.

Life is like the weather,despite a sunny forecast you can get wet.

A cloudy morning does not signify that the entire day is gonna be rainy! What's pressing you down today has nothing to change about your great future! Let patience be your inspiration.

Gloomy days, whether meteorological or psychological, lend themselves more to the creation of Gothic horror. On those insular days, the mind gravitates towards the unseen and the subconscious. Days of blinding sunshine banish the desire to ruminate and it is replaced with a longing to participate in the outside world.

The clouds in his face clear away instantly, and he is sunny and bright again.

A well lived life means weathering a few storms. Our lessons don't come from sunny days on the beach, they come from copping a few waves on the head.

If you’re sunny inside, you never have to worry about the weather.

We thank the Lord for happy hearts, for rain and sunny weather. We thank the Lord for this our food and that we are together. Amen.

If I were making up a story, I would have it gray and miserable outside, but it was sunny and miserable instead, glaringly bright and bitterly cold, as if the sky could not decide if it was in a good mood or would spend all day growling. I didn’t mind this kind of weather, weather that cannot make up its mind, because I am often the same way, or at least I think I am. I don’t know.

Two solid weeks of beautiful weather. Clear sunny days, low humidity, temperature in the seventies, air so brisk and clean you could read E PLURIBUS UNUM on a dime across the street. Clear cloudless nights, temperature in the fifties, the sky a great soft raven’s breast, an immense bowl of octopus ink salted with a million hard white crystalline stars and garnished with a huge moon pulsing with white light. It was disgusting.

Happy trails to you, until we meet again. Happy trails to you, keep smilin’ until then. Who cares about the clouds when we’re together? Just sing a song and bring the sunny weather. Happy trails to you, ‘till we meet again. Some trails are happy ones, Others are blue. It’s the way you ride the trail that counts, Here’s a happy one for you. Happy trails to you, until we meet again. Happy trails to you, keep smilin’ until then.

One night when I got in from work a bit late, 'cause it was really nice weather and everyone wants to take the punts out when it's sunny, I found Larry just sitting on the sofa staring at a blank TV screen. At first I thought maybe he'd forgotten to turn it on, but then I thought, no, Larry's not stupid. He'd have noticed.

We seldom question the purpose of life when our world is sunny and bright. This question tends to hide itself during pleasant sailing, only rearing its face during the deepest and darkest travails, when the gales of storm weather have fallen.

When people are sad they usually make such unreasonable requests that, deity though I am, I am unable to fulfill them. Some pray to be made rich overnight. Some covet other people's wives. Some want to kill the people they hate. Some want the rain changed to sunny weather. Some even want the nose they were born with to be a little bigger. Everyone wants something else. They all pray in vain to Buddha and to the gods, even though their requests cannot possibly be granted, thus making nuisances of themselves.

The morning of September 1st met the citizen of the village shining with beautiful sunny weather. A refreshing breeze, enriched by acerb fragrances of maple, oak, and poplar tree leaves that already began changing their colors for autumn, blew from the lake.

I do not think the sunny youth of either will prove the forerunner of stormy age. I think it is deemed good that you two should live in peace and be happy - not as angels but as few are happy amongst mortals. Some lives are thus blessed: it is God's will: it is the attesting trace and lingering evidence of Eden. Other lives run from the first another course. Other travellers encounter weather fitful and gusty wild and variable - breast adverse winds are belated and overtaken by the early closing winter night. Neither can this happen without the sanction of God and I know that amidst His boundless works is somewhere stored the secret of this last fate's justice: I know that His treasures contain the proof as the promise of its mercy.

While the USA is known for its oppression, I focus on its natural beauty and sunny southern weather.

That most pleasant weather to feel is the one never felt.

What do I care if the weather is sunny When I’m all out of luck and all out of money

There is nothing quite like the smell of rain on a grass field after a sunny spell.

It was cold but sunny today! Now it’s raining! This English weather is like a madman!

In a cold place, there's no such thing as today, just tomorrow. Will it snow tomorrow? Will it be sunny tomorrow?

They conducted their love affair in the room above the abandoned corn exchange as the autumn weather came lop-leggedly in from the east: now a warm day, now a sunny one, now four days of cold winds and thin rain.

The effect of the weather on the inhabitants of Provence is immediate and obvious. They expect every day to be sunny, and their disposition suffers when it isn't. Rain they take as a personal affront, shaking their heads and commiserating with each other in the cafes, looking with profound suspicion at the sky as though a plague of locusts is about to descend, and picking their way with distaste through the puddles on the pavement. If anything worse than a rainy day should come along, such as this sub-zero snap, the result is startling: most the population disappears... But what did everyone else do? The earth was frozen, the vines were clipped and dormant, it was too cold to hunt. Had they all gone on holiday?...It was a puzzle, until we realized how many of the local people had their birthdays in September or October, and then a possible but unverifiable answer suggested itself: they were busy indoors making babies. There is a season for everything in Provence, and the first two months of the year must be devoted to procreation. We have never dared to ask.

Quinnipeague in August was a lush green place where inchworms dangled from trees whose leaves were so full that the eaten parts were barely missed. Mornings meant 'thick o' fog' that caught on rooftops and dripped, blurring weathered gray shingles while barely muting the deep pink of rosa rugosa or the hydrangea's blue. Wood smoke filled the air on rainy days, pine sap on sunny ones, and wafting through it all was the briny smell of the sea.

It was a lovely summer weather in the country, and the golden corn, the green oats, and the haystacks piled up in the meadows looked beautiful. The stork walking about on his long red legs chattered in the Egyptian language, which he had learnt from his mother. The corn-fields and meadows were surrounded by large forests, in the midst of which were deep pools. It was, indeed, delightful to walk about in the country. In a sunny spot stood a pleasant old farm-house close by a deep river, and from the house down to the water side grew great burdock leaves, so high, that under the tallest of them a little child could stand upright. The spot was as wild as the centre of a thick wood. In

when it’s sunny, it’s great. But it’s how you weather the storm. So enjoy the good now, because there’s no telling when the storm will come thundering through your life, and you’ll be left holding on with everything inside of you,

The weather has changed completely in the last week. Last Saturday was mild and sunny, autumn looking reluctantly back over its shoulder towards summer. Today it was wet and blustery, autumn barrelling forward impatiently into winter.

If the weather is sunny, it is good; if the weather is rainy, it is good; if it is foggy, it is good; if it is stormy, it is good; if it is damn cold, it is good; if it is damn hot, it is good! With a positive attitude of mind, all becomes good!

لا بد أن أجلس ذات يوم لكي أكتب بحثاً عن العوامل السيكوطقسية الكامنة وراء إنتشار الإنجليز في الأرض وتكوينهم للإمبراطورية. هم كانوا يريدون الخلاص بأية طريقة من جو بلادهم المنحط، ولعلهم ما كانوا يطلقون رصاصة واحدة لو وافق أصحاب القارات المشمسة على منحهم تأشيرة دخول !

I had a magical day during one Sunday when I walked out in nature. On the outside this day only consisted of taking a walk out in the beautiful sunny weather and cleaning my apartment, but on the inside everything suddenly changed. When I walked out in nature in the sunny weather, a silent explosion suddenly happened within me and my whole perception of reality changed. In a single moment, everything had changed, although nothing on the outside had really changed. Everything on the outside was exactly as before, but my way of seeing had changed. The difference was that before I did not see and now I could see. My eyes were open. Suddenly I was one with everything, one with the stones, one with the trees and one with the people that I meet on my walk. My heart danced with joy together with a feeling of: ”I am God”. Not that I am the creator of everything, but that I am part of the Whole, part of the divine. It felt like coming home, that Existence is my home. I also saw that even if the people that I meet did not understand that they are a part of the Whole, they still are a part of the Whole. I felt the waves of Existence in my own heart and being and I felt like a small wave in a great ocean. It gave a taste of the eternal, a taste of the limitless and boundless source of creativity. In just a few moments, I learnt more than during 20 years in university. Wisdom is basically the understanding that we all are part of the Whole. We are all small rivers moving towards the ocean. I laughed at the fact that enlightenment is really our innate birthright, and that small children already live in this mystical unity with the Whole.

He can’t imagine ever getting accustomed to the effortless hairpin turns of the weather around here. He’s used to a hot sunny day being a hot sunny day, a cold rainy day being a cold rainy day, and so on. Here, some days the weather seems like it’s just fucking with people on principle.

Now, in every city into which I venture, uniforms rush upon me, dust dandruff from my collar, press a brochure into my hand, recite the latest weather report, pray for my soul, throw walk-shields over nearby puddles, wipe off my windshield, hold an umbrella over my head on sunny or rainy days, or shine an ultra-infra flashlight before me on cloudy ones, pick lint from my belly-button, scrub my back, shave my neck, zip up my fly, shine my shoes and smile—all before I can protest— right hand held at waist-level. What a goddamn happy place the universe would be if everyone wore uniforms that glinted and crinkled. Then we'd all have to smile at each other.

reputation for being weird.” “Weird? What do you mean, weird?” “Like… the weather is always different there. It could be sunny everywhere else but when you get there, it’s grey and misty—or it’s raining all over the Cotswolds but completely dry in Tillyhenge… And if you’re driving, the GPS can’t find it, no matter how you give the directions. In fact, it doesn’t even show

They smoked on the patio. The wind was warm. Snow had gone to slush in the street. Clouds shredded into flying ribbons. Off to the right, the mountain was alive and wild in flashing shadows. A piece of it wavered in sheets of rain with patches of blue sky behind it. But it wasn’t raining in town. Most of the sky was sunny. All the weather in the world had come to the valley.

Sirius Sojourn by Stewart Stafford Cottage in an aromatic meadow, Summer's languid haze hanging, The old windmill's sundial stilled, Chirping birds and insect drones. Flowing brooks at a funereal pace, A bloated lull duels exiguous energy, Thick air's blanketing somnolence, Liquid refreshment soothes inertia. Salmon sundown slithers to a siesta, In a clear purple sky nodding assent, The intense day imperceptibly eased, As the night's humid embrace begins. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.

Why are you always so mad?” She laughs under her breath. “That’s easy,” she says. “Assholes, stupid customers, a shitty job, worthless parents, crappy friends, bad weather, annoying roommates who don’t know how to kiss.” I laugh at the last comment, which I’m sure was supposed to be a dig, but it felt more like an underhanded flirt. “How are you so happy all the time?” she asks. “You think everything is funny.” “That’s easy,” I say. “Great parents, being lucky enough to have a job, loyal friends, sunny days, and roommates who starred in porn films.

The weather was dazzling- a sunny Nova Scotia May day. We walked through the huge iron gates into the Public Gardens and ate our sandwiches and apples beside the duck pond. I kicked off my rubber boots and wiggled my toes in the sun as I watched the swans and yellow ducklings. The Gardens were immense, full of massive and intricate flowerbeds, winding paths, and strange exotic trees. There were statues, a splashing fountain, an elaborate round bandstand, and a little river with a curved bridge over it. Lovers strolled arm and arm, and children shrieked with laughter as they chased the pigeons.

Wild Times Since Mexico accepted communism as a legitimate political party during the 1920’s and allowed refugees greater flexibility of thought, it became a haven from persecution. Moreover, living in Mexico was less costly than most countries, the weather was usually sunny and no one objected to the swinging lifestyle that many of the expats engaged in. It was for these reasons that Julio Mella from Cuba, Leon Trotsky from Russia and others sought refuge there. It also attracted many actors, authors and artists from the United States, many of whom were Communist or, at the very least were “Fellow Travelers” and had leftist leanings. Although the stated basic reason for the Communist Party’s existence was to improve conditions for the working class, it became a hub for the avant-garde, who felt liberated socially as well as politically. The bohemian enclave of Coyoacán now a part of Mexico City, where Frida Kahlo was born, was located just east of San Angel which at the time was a district of the ever expanding City. It also became the gathering place for personalities such as the American actor Orson Welles, the beautiful actress Dolores del Río, the famous artist Diego Rivera and his soon-to-be-wife, “Frida,” who became and is still revered as the illustrious matriarch of Mexico.

everything that has life gives sign of satisfaction, and the cattle that lie on the ground seem to have great and tranquil thoughts. These halcyons may be looked for with a little more assurance in that pure October weather which we distinguish by the name of the Indian summer. The day, immeasurably long, sleeps over the broad hills and warm wide fields. To have lived through all its sunny hours, seems longevity enough. The solitary places do not seem quite lonely. At the gates of the forest, the surprised man of the world is forced to leave his city estimates of great and small, wise and foolish. The knapsack of custom falls off his back with the first step he takes into these precincts. Here is sanctity which shames our religions, and reality which discredits our heroes. Here we find Nature to be the circumstance which dwarfs every other circumstance, and judges like a god all men that come to her. Nature, Ralph Waldo Emerson

Dear Lily Don't think me silly, but I forget what time you said. Are we meeting at two thirty? It's gone right from my head. Did you say Monday or Thursday? I have quite forgotten what day. Was it late lunch, or afternoon tea? Tell me, what did you say? I think I would like to do Tuesday. Let's go for a lovely lunch. Or, if you prefer we could even go early, and settle for brunch. A lovely Bistro or Cafe Bar, or maybe a country pub. I don't really mind that much, as long as we get some grub. Dear Maisie, Are you going crazy? We didn't set a date. You needed to check your diary. I think you are losing it, mate. But since you are free on Tuesday, and that day suits me fine. Could we meet, about twelve…ish? Its early I like to dine. You mentioned the pub, or Bistro, or some fancy Cafe Bar. Not sure I like the sound of that, and I'm not coming in the car. If the weather is bright and sunny, we could always dine al fresco. Failing that, we could just go get a cake and a cuppa in Tesco.

Home. After a lifetime of wandering, of seeking and failing, I finally understood the meaning of the word. Home isn’t a place, a structure you create from wood or bricks or mortar, building the walls high and strong, to keep out the storms of life. Home is in the things you carry with you, the treasures of the heart, like Gil’s Bible, or the memories of a family baseball game on a sunny summer day, or the feeling of singing “I’ll Fly Away” in an abandoned church as the storm passes over. It is a dwelling place you share with the people who matter most, a refuge in which you’re never alone. The Builder is always nearby, tearing down old walls and adding new rooms, repairing the damage of wind and weather, filling empty spaces with new gifts. Gifts beautiful and mysterious and unexpected. Like all beautiful gifts, a surprise to everyone but the Giver, who seeks us in our hidden places and beckons us home from our wanderings. Who knows that nothing adrift is meant to stay adrift forever.

Degrees of Freedom This is important. One of the easy things about riding the train is that there aren’t many choices. The track goes where the track goes. Sure, sometimes there are junctions and various routes, but generally speaking, there are only two choices—go or don’t go. Driving is a little more complicated. In a car you can choose from literally millions of destinations. Organizations are far more complex. There are essentially an infinite number of choices, endless degrees of freedom. Your marketing can be free or expensive, online or offline, funny or sad. It can be truthful, emotional, boring, or bland. In fact, every marketing campaign ever done has been at least a little different from every other one. The same choices exist in even greater number when you look at the microdecisions that go on every day. Should you go to a meeting or not? Shake hands with each person or just start? Order in fancy food for your guests or go for a walk together because the weather is sunny. . . . In the face of an infinite sea of choices, it’s natural to put blinders on, to ask for a map, to beg for instructions, or failing that, to do exactly what you did last time, even if it didn’t work. Linchpins are able to embrace the lack of structure and find a new path, one that works.

. . . everything that has life gives sign of satisfaction, and the cattle that lie on the ground seem to have great and tranquil thoughts. These halcyons may be looked for with a little more assurance in that pure October weather which we distinguish by the name of the Indian summer. The day, immeasurably long, sleeps over the broad hills and warm wide fields. To have lived through all its sunny hours, seems longevity enough. The solitary places do not seem quite lonely. At the gates of the forest, the surprised man of the world is forced to leave his city estimates of great and small, wise and foolish. The knapsack of custom falls off his back with the first step he takes into these precincts. Here is sanctity which shames our religions, and reality which discredits our heroes. Here we find Nature to be the circumstance which dwarfs every other circumstance, and judges like a god all men that come to her. Nature, Ralph Waldo Emerson Aye, and poets send out the sick spirit to green pastures, like lame horses turned out unshod to the turf to renew their hoofs. A sort of yarb-doctors in their way, poets have it that for sore hearts, as for sore lungs, nature is the grand cure. But who froze to death my teamster on the prairie? And who made an idiot of Peter the Will Boy? The Confidence Man, Herman Melville

Pity those who are punished. Alas! Who are we, after all? Who am I who speak to you now? Who are you, listening to me? Where do we come from? And is it quite certain we did nothing before we were born? The earth is not without some resemblance to a gaol. Who knows whether man is not a previous offender against divine justice? Take a close look at life. It is so organized that everywhere there is a sense of punishment. Are you what is called a happy man? Well, you are sad every day. Every day has its great sorrow or petty anxiety. Yesterday you were trembling for the health of someone dear to you, today you fear for your own; tomorrow it will be financial worries, the next day some back-biter’s slander, the day after that a friend’s misfortune. Then the weather, then something broken or lost, then a pleasure that your conscience and your backbone begrudge you. Another time, what is going on in the world. Not to mention heartache. And so on and so forth. One cloud clears, another forms. Hardly one day in a hundred that is entirely joyous, entirely sunny. And you are one of that small number who are happy! As for the rest of mankind, stagnant night is upon them. Reflective minds rarely use those terms, ‘the happy’ and ‘the unhappy’. In this world, the antechamber to another, of course, no one is happy. The real human division is this: the enlightened and the benighted. To reduce the numbers of the benighted, to increase the numbers of the enlightened, that is the object. That is why we cry: Education! Science! To teach someone to read is to light a fire! Every spelled-out syllable sparkles! And he who says ‘light’ does not necessarily say ‘joy’. People suffer in the light. An excess of it burns. The flame is enemy to the wing. To burn without ceasing to fly, that is the marvel of genius. Even if you have knowledge and even if you have love, you will still suffer. Each day begins with tears. The enlightened weep, if only for the benighted.

There was an infinity of firmest fortitude, a determinate unsurrenderable wilfulness, in the fixed and fearless, forward dedication of that glance. Not a word he spoke; nor did his officers say aught to him; though by all their minutest gestures and expressions, they plainly showed the uneasy, if not painful, consciousness of being under a troubled master-eye. And not only that, but moody stricken Ahab stood before them with a crucifixion in his face; in all the nameless regal overbearing dignity of some mighty woe. Ere long, from his first visit in the air, he withdrew into his cabin. But after that morning, he was every day visible to the crew; either standing in his pivot-hole, or seated upon an ivory stool he had; or heavily walking the deck. As the sky grew less gloomy; indeed, began to grow a little genial, he became still less and less a recluse; as if, when the ship had sailed from home, nothing but the dead wintry bleakness of the sea had then kept him so secluded. And, by and by, it came to pass, that he was almost continually in the air; but, as yet, for all that he said, or perceptibly did, on the at last sunny deck, he seemed as unnecessary there as another mast. But the Pequod was only making a passage now; not regularly cruising; nearly all whaling preparatives needing supervision the mates were fully competent to, so that there was little or nothing, out of himself, to employ or excite Ahab, now; and thus chase away, for that one interval, the clouds that layer upon layer were piled upon his brow, as ever all clouds choose the loftiest peaks to pile themselves upon. Nevertheless, ere long, the warm, warbling persuasiveness of the pleasant, holiday weather we came to, seemed gradually to charm him from his mood. For, as when the red-cheeked, dancing girls, April and May, trip home to the wintry, misanthropic woods; even the barest, ruggedest, most thunder-cloven old oak will at least send forth some few green sprouts, to welcome such glad-hearted visitants; so Ahab did, in the end, a little respond to the playful allurings of that girlish air. More than once did he put forth the faint blossom of a look, which, in any other man, would have soon flowered out in a smile.

My bedroom is separated from the main body of my house so that I have to go outside and cross some pseudo-Japanese stepping stones in order to go to sleep at night. Often I get rained on a little bit on my way to bed. It’s a benediction. A good night kiss. Romantic? Absolutely. And nothing to be ashamed of. If reality is a matter of perspective, then the romantic view of the world is as valid as any other - and a great deal more rewarding. It makes of life and unpredictable adventure rather that a problematic equation. Rain is the natural element for romanticism. A dripping fir is a hundred times more sexy than a sunburnt palm tree, and more primal and contemplative, too. A steady, wind-driven rain composed music for the psyche. It not only nurtures and renews, it consecrates and sanctifies. It whispers in secret languages about the primordial essence of things. Obviously, then, the Pacific Northwest's customary climate is perfect for a writer. It's cozy and intimate. Reducing temptation (how can you possibly play on the beach or work in the yard?), it turns a person inward, connecting them with what Jung called "the bottom below the bottom," those areas of the deep unconscious into which every serious writer must spelunk. Directly above my writing desk there is a skylight. This is the window, rain-drummed and bough-brushed, through which my Muse arrives, bringing with her the rhythms and cadences of cloud and water, not to mention the latest catalog from Victoria's Secret and the twenty-three auxiliary verbs. Oddly enough, not every local author shares my proclivity for precipitation. Unaware of the poetry they're missing, many malign the mist as malevolently as they non-literary heliotropes do. They wring their damp mitts and fret about rot, cursing the prolonged spillage, claiming they're too dejected to write, that their feet itch (athlete's foot), the roof leaks, they can't stop coughing, and they feel as if they're slowly being digested by an oyster. Yet the next sunny day, though it may be weeks away, will trot out such a mountainous array of pagodas, vanilla sundaes, hero chins and god fingers; such a sunset palette of Jell-O, carrot oil, Vegas strip, and Kool-Aid; such a sea-vista display of broad waters, firred islands, whale spouts, and boat sails thicker than triangles in a geometry book, that any and all memories of dankness will fizz and implode in a blaze of bedazzled amnesia. "Paradise!" you'll hear them proclaim as they call United Van Lines to cancel their move to Arizona.

Some foreign diplomats believe the Middle East is weathering a historic intra-Islamic feud between its Sunni and Shiite sects that no outside power could significantly affect and that is undermining the very structure of the region's nation states.

When it clears tomorrow, I’m sure we’ll all be in better fettle.” “Clears?” Strath snorted. “You obviously don’t know Scotland. Our weather is rainy, misty, foggy, hazy, icy, and—for two weeks every year, whether we deserve it or not—sunny.

Enjoy Swimming throughout the Year with Pool Enclosures One of the most fantastic activities that people like to do in all weather is swimming. But harsh winter season makes you sometimes miss that enjoyment and feel regretted of that open swimming pool. For that the technology has made you get a fruitful option. You can have now various type Pool Enclosures available in the market. These are so effective that can get you the feel of indoor swimming with the automated drive systems. You can make your open area as enclosed one with the available automatic retractable enclosures. This comes out to be the smart option to enjoy swimming even in the coldest weather outside year around. Just like an Indoor Pool you are free to enjoy swimming year around. In all climates the pool enclosure works effective as these are easy to open and close. Thus with this feature you can attach it to your home and detach as well. To choose the suitable you are open with two basic alternates that are tracked and trackless enclosures. The features are all clear as with the tracked system there is no tension of opening and closing while the trackless system requires two people to drag the path on both side equally. Not only using it as an enclosed area to enjoy swimming, there are other facilities too that you can get through it. Making it as a Sunroom in the clear weather and sunny day is one of the spectacular notion. There you can enjoy sunbath if the enclosure is made of glass. The glass made enclosures also work with greenhouse effect best for plants as well. The full height is one more specific feature that can make you enjoy walking around the pool area. You can make your pool safe and clean from dust and dirt particles from which the pool comes in contact obviously. Turn you outer Swimming Pool as an enclosed area and an important part of your home with the enclosures available in the market. There are many companies that are providing different range of products to be made as pool enclosure as per your requirements. You are even open with the option having them installed by the experts which many of the companies avail. Search for the suitable option online. The harsh winter season makes you sometimes miss the enjoyment of swimming and feel regretted of that open swimming pool. For that the technology has made you get a fruitful option of pool enclosures.

Time goes by fast in Southern California. I blame the weather. It's pretty much always warm and sunny, and the season are so mild you blink and it's been five years, blink again and it's ten. It's hard to track time here, because it doesn't change much. Leaves stay green and they stay put, and by accident I did too.

Imagine this garden; one you’ve planted from seed, cultivated with love. When the seeds break the ground, they seek sunshine, warmth, and nutrients. The seeds have no control over the weather. They are as dependent on it as we are on our minds. You may have control over the location of your garden, the frequency with which you tend to it, and the amount of care you give it, but you can’t control the weather. It may be sunny one day, rainy the next. You prop the vines in the hopes they will flourish once the rain passes. And they may, until the next rain comes. The weather changes, sometimes without warning. Sometimes you can see it coming, much like the triggers a depressed person avoids, and you try to protect the plants before the storm. The intensity of the labor can get frustrating, especially if there is no relief in sight. One day, a tornado or hurricane passes through. Even though you see it on the horizon, you can’t stop it and you may not be able to seek shelter soon enough. The plants are torn from their roots, the garden completely destroyed. You may have thought you could protect it yourself, that the storm wouldn’t be that bad, or you simply didn’t know how or were afraid to ask for help. Your neighbors and family couldn’t help or didn’t know you needed help. The garden is gone. This is the way of depression; if you don’t have it, it’s very difficult to understand this cycle.

The weather changes its mood,” said Arthur. “When it’s sunny, like today, it’s full of hope and happiness. People are out. They’re more relaxed. When it rains, it’s romantic as well, but in a somber, melancholy way. The way you feel watching a black-and-white movie.

You don’t care if it’s cold and raining or warm and sunny 10,000 miles away because it’s not your weather. The same detachment should apply to your 401(k) investments until you approach retirement. Even

Positano hotel into the GPS, and they drove away on schedule. They left the city and got onto the autostrada, headed south. The weather was sunny and warm, and traffic moved freely. “Where do you live in New York?” Stone asked. “I have a loft in SoHo. I live and work there. Do you know the area?” “Sort of. I get a nosebleed if I go below Forty-second Street, so I don’t hang out downtown.” “Where do you live?” “In Turtle Bay. Do you know it?” “I once went to see Katharine Hepburn there,” she said. “I was supposed to paint her for Vanity Fair, but she didn’t like my preliminary sketches, and they replaced me with Annie Leibovitz. Ms. Hepburn preferred photographs. Nice neighborhood, though.” “Ms. Hepburn was a neighbor, sort of. I didn’t know her, but I saw her

Olivia is always affected by the weather, her mood attuned to its changes. Sunny days make her cheerful. Dark, damp, dreary days like this one always get her down.

Summer weather along the Pacific is governed by a kind of strange roulette wheel, one that makes anyone with concrete plans on the all-but-certain losing end of things. Not until the moment one ventures outside to experience the world of nature is it apparent if it is sunny or rainy or a mix of both. Its unpredictability is the only sure thing.

A club of sunshine whacked me right between the eyes. Like to laid me out. Gah! An ill omen for sure. These bright days are never kind. Everybody I ran into would be just like the weather: warm and sunny. Argh! I was in the mood for low overcast and light drizzle, maybe with a frigid south wind. I peeled layers of fried skin off my eyeballs, took another look. Where there is life there is hope.

On the Friday morning the Spurs party left Moscow and flew south to Kiev, capital of the Ukraine. After the disappointing weather in the Russian capital they were more than happy to arrive on a wonderful sunny day. The players were confidently told that the good weather would last throughout their stay and the visit to Kiev turned out to be the highlight of the tour. The people in the sun-drenched city seemed more relaxed than those in Moscow and the extensive beaches stretching along the banks of the River Dnieper were crowded with sunbathers. ‘They were a different sort of people,’ recalls Medwin. ‘They weren’t near Moscow and so didn’t feel the same pressure. It was a different way of life there. They enjoyed themselves and it looked a bit more glamorous.

She is a child who's happiness is gauged by the strange weather between her parents, sometimes sunny but more often a gale.

Ms. Rogers sighed softly. "Just keep a weather eye," she said. Grant looked out the window. "But it's a bright sunny day." Papa laughed. "She means keep our eyes open for anything or anyone unusual or suspicious," he explained.

Sometimes it rains, and sometimes it is sunny. You accept the weather. You may not like the day's weather, but you do not label it 'good' or 'evil.' Shouting at a tornado does no good. Rebuking a tidal wave has no effect.

We thank Thee, Lord, for happy hearts, for rain and sunny weather. We thank Thee, Lord, for this our food,

MY FIRST VISIT to the Oval took place just days after the election, when, following a long tradition, the Bushes invited Michelle and me for a tour of our soon-to-be home. Riding in a Secret Service vehicle, the two of us traveled the winding arc of the South Lawn entrance to the White House, trying to process the fact that in less than three months we’d be moving in. The day was sunny and warm, the trees still flush with leaves, and the Rose Garden overflowing with flowers. Washington’s prolonged fall provided a welcome respite, for in Chicago the weather had quickly turned cold and dark, an arctic wind stripping the trees bare of leaves, as if the unusually mild weather we had enjoyed on election night had been merely part of an elaborate set, to be dismantled as soon as the celebration was done.

In 1934, my parents and the aunts and uncles that accompanied them on their return to Germany, stayed with my grandmother and other family members during this difficult time. To get away from the overwhelming stress everyone felt, they took a day’s outing to the grassy countryside known as die Luneburger Heide, which lay about 50 km southeast of Hamburg. North Germany is not known for its good weather, but I heard that on that particular day it was sunny and perfect for a picnic. From their slightly elevated vantage point, they watched a parade of young men in the Hitler Youth march by. As the band played and the Nazi flag fluttered, most of the people got up out of respect… or could it have been from fear? That is, everyone but my family stood up! They were new Americans and proud of their adopted country, so they alone didn’t salute the repressive flag that was paraded by and they certainly didn’t feel that they had to show any loyalty to it. It did not take long before my family was aggressively surrounded by “Nazi Brown Shirts” and confronted for this unpardonable violation. Pretending not to understand German or the importance of the circumstances, they were allowed to depart from the scene, being thought of as uneducated schweinehunde, another derogatory slang word meaning pig-dogs. It seems that this conflict could have been avoided, had they just stood up and paid due deference to the flag. Considering the times, it was lucky that they got away with their little scam. To the Nazis it was not just a game, the swastika represented their new order, in defiance of the Treaty of Versailles. I don’t know if my family realized how lucky they were, that this incident didn’t escalate. It is interesting to note that civil servants and members of the German military were expected to take oaths pledged to Hitler himself, and not to the Constitution or the German state. Oaths were taken very seriously by members of the German armed forces. They considered them to be part of a personal code of honor. This put the military in a position of personal servitude, making them the personal instrument of Hitler. In September of that year, at the annual Nuremberg Nazi Party rallies, Hitler euphemistically proclaimed that the German form of life would continue for the next thousand years.

It's been sunny for three days, if it rains tomorrow, someone will say summer is over.

The weather was expected to continue as sunny or overcast with occasional showers or dry spells, some wind and some no wind at all. It was possible that there might be a light frost in the morning, or it could turn in places to snow or fog, or into a spectacularly fine sunrise.

flycatchers. The weather is hovering between a few final sunny

The weather was sunny and mild. She had plenty of books to read and was in the grip of Eric Ambler’s Journey Into Fear.

The storm relented on the morning of the eleventh. The winds dropped to about thirty knots. Stuart Hutchison and three Sherpas went in search of Yasuko and me. They found us lying next to each other, largely buried in snow and ice. First to Yasuko. Hutchison reached down and pulled her up by her coat. She had a three-inch-thick layer of ice across her face, a mask that he peeled back. Her skin was porcelain. Her eyes were dilated. But she was still breathing. He moved to me, pulled me up, and cleaned the ice out of my eyes and off my beard so he could look into my face. I, like Yasuko, was barely clinging to life. Hutchison would later say he had never seen a human being so close to death and still breathing. Coming from a cardiologist, I’ll accept that at face value. What do you do? The superstitious Sherpas, uneasy around the dead and dying, were hesitant to approach us. But Hutchison didn’t really need a second opinion here. The answer was, you leave them. Every mountaineer knows that once you go into hypothermic coma in the high mountains, you never, ever wake up. Yasuko and I were going to die anyway. It would only endanger more lives to bring us back. I don’t begrudge that decision for my own sake. But how much strain would be entailed in carrying Yasuko back? She was so tiny. At least she could have died in the tent, surrounded by people, and not alone on that ice. Hutchison and the Sherpas got back to camp and told everyone that we were dead. They called down to Base Camp, which notified Rob’s office in Christchurch, which relayed the news to Dallas. On a warm, sunny Saturday morning the phone rang in our house. Peach answered and was told by Madeleine David, office manager for Hall’s company, Adventure Consultants, that I had been killed descending from the summit ridge. “Is there any hope?” Peach asked. “No,” David replied. “There’s been a positive body identification. I’m sorry.

Swirly clouds were in the blue sky. Cheerful dandelions were growing. There was a slight breeze, and the weather was sunny. I felt sunny inside too. The troubles that had been weighing down on me so much before now seemed far away.

It can get extremely warm around Base Camp on a sunny day in May. A thermometer left out in the afternoon sun by the Hillary expedition reportedly registered a high temperature of about 150 degrees.

His destiny was just too big to spend So he broke it into smaller bills and change By the time he'd try to buy the things he needed He had spent it all on loosies and weed and He had spent it all on chips and Coca-Cola He had spent it all on chocolate and vanilla He had spent it all and didn't even feel it He had spent it all and didn't even feel it [Verse 2] All the poets in the alley coughing up blood And their visions and their dreams are coming up red They can either wake up or go deeper But it's so dangerous to wake a deep sleeper It's like awakening a bear in winter To feel the reckoning of hunger splinter He's gonna stretch his claws and feel his power And you are gonna know your final hour Better get a head start, start running While you were skimming from the top was sunny But all the weather 'bout to turn real crummy 'Cause everybody gonna want their money Yeah, everybody gonna want their money Better get a head start, start running Better get a head start, start running 'Cause it's about to get so unfunny All the poets in the alley coughing up blood And their visions and their dreams are coming up red They can neither wake up or go deeper But it's so dangerous to wake a deep sleeper

Climate engineers could certainly strong-arm the weather to what someone had foolishly decided was optimal—though they did it at their own peril, creating an environment that led, ultimately, to malaise of the mind, body, and spirit. The Imperial family would never understand that. They continued to relax under their sunny skies and stroll through their well-watered arboretums, oblivious to an environmental catastrophe just waiting to unfold before their covered eyes. It would be a challenge to stay on this planet

I put my phone away and stare out the window at Japan's countryside, watching the scenery zip by at 320 kilometers per hour. Mount Fuji has come and gone, as have laundry on metal merry-go-racks, houses plastered with party signs, weathered baseball diamonds, an ostrich farm, and now, miles of rice paddy fields tended by people wearing conical hats and straw coats. Japan is dressed in her best this morning, sunny and breezy, with few clouds in the sky as accessories. It's the first official day of spring. Cherry blossoms have disappeared in twists of wind or trampled into the ground. Takenoko, bamboo season, will begin soon.

The twenty-fourth baron of Aisling,” answered Sydney. “But we just call him Big Bill.” “It was thought that the twenty-third baron had no surviving relatives,” said Mother. “But, right before he passed away, a successful industrialist and distant cousin named William Maxwell was discovered living in Los Angeles. As the only heir, he inherited all of this.” “If he inherited it, why are we here?” asked Sara. “He didn’t want to leave sunny California for gloomy Scotland,” said Sydney. “And since he was already rich, he decided to use his inheritance to create the Foundation for Atmospheric Research and Monitoring. That’s how an old Scottish manor house become a state-of-the-art weather station and research center.” “You’ll have to memorize all this for the tours,” said Mother. “Tours?” “Weather Weirdos,” Sydney said, shaking her head. “They knock on the door at all hours and ask to look around.” “I prefer the term ‘meteorology enthusiasts,’ ” said Mother. “And we’re happy to welcome them. It’s all part of our mission as defined by the baron. He thought the study of ocean and weather patterns was vitally important. The fact that this house overlooks the North Sea made it an ideal location to do both.

Likewise, unless you live close to the equator, you will have different seasons. Surely, for many it is nicer when it is hot and sunny than when it is cold and wet. Still, you learn to cope with it. If the weather causes a bad mood in you, of course this is not the fault of the whether, but an indication that you need to deepen your roots within to become more stable and centered.

been like that his whole life,” Aunt Rosie said with deep fondness. “Sunny. Proves rich or poor doesn’t matter, if you ask me. Some people are just born happy. I think that’s the luckiest thing. If you’re sunny inside, you never have to worry about the weather.

before. And a hippo who drives, well that’s even better. Now it was time to enjoy this Amazon weather! It was sunny today, and clear, clear, clear skies. So Hippo offered to take them for a ride. “I’ll show you around the jungle for a bit. I’ll show you around so you all can just sit back and relax and enjoy the show, there are so many places to go.” So they drove until they came across monkey.

Because of the constantly warm and sunny weather, men and women on this marvellous island tend to spend a lot of time outdoors, walking and working in the fields. They

Cathedral of Light by Stewart Stafford The wintry grey forest branches, Embrace freezing fog as build, Backlit by the pushy noon sun, Revealing a cathedral of light. An air frost of transient structure, Reprieve from a hangman's bloom, Naked limbs greeted the icy cover, The looming cape of ersatz foliage. Tongues of wind scatter the pop-up, Six sheep in a straight line saw it off, A still and sunny afternoon followed, Frozen matinee fades another day. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.

Some people are just born happy. I think that’s the luckiest thing. If you’re sunny inside, you never have to worry about the weather.

It’s hot and sunny now on deck at midday, enough to drive you into the shade if you’ve got a choice. The trade winds have returned, steady from just south of east, and the ship slides along as if on a rail. There are dry starry nights, the evenings electric, with horizons the color of watermelon rind. Orion, recumbent, loops overhead in a great arc. We cross the equator near 132 degrees west longitude, just after midnight on December 17. North along our meridian the next bit of land is British Columbia. South is Antarctica. The latitude display on our GPS reads, briefly and thrillingly, 00° 00.000’.

You prefer the tide and the waves, the unclouded and sunny days with hot weather….

Some people get lost in completely sunny weather and some people don't get lost in the thickest fog!