Because in extreme climates it is adaptive to be obsessed by weather.
We have had three grey days in a row: sometimes the sun peeks from behind a cloud with it face sand washed by all that floating atmospheric dust; most of the time a glowing general grey permeates everything, even my mood, a grey with a hint of yellowish desert clay, not a blue grey like you can find in other countries. The weather has started to turn for the worst; it is now so muggy that the cat comes indoors during the day to languish on the floor in the coolest corner that he can find. In extreme climates there is a certain survivalist need to be constantly preoccupied by the weather, it is adaptive. I’m doing my gardening early in the morning when the temperature and humidity are still bearable but soon the spring will mature close enough to summer that there is not going to be any good time to be outdoors: the days will be hazy dry ovens and the evenings bain maries in which people and other animals are the only things cooking.—We are not going to discuss semantics here, if you are people but consider yourself a plant or a mineral please suit yourself.
Among all these, there are still pockets of happiness to enjoy: our tiny wild bees are hard at work amidst the spindly plants whose name I had never known,—they have small red flowers—the tomato plants are growing a few millimeters per day; I don’t know if this is enough to beat the incoming summer to a harvest but we planted them more for the joy of seeing things grow than for any realistic expectation of fruit. El palito now inhabits the front garden next to the date palm and has managed to survive the worst of the spring white flies even if it is looking so scarred that it is making me seriously reconsider all this organic gardening hoo-ha. There are diminutive flowers and green grass, the air smells good, and the cat has not deposited another dead bird in our living room this week—he has a trick with that but that is a subject for another post—and we have finally convinced the gardeners to stop massacring our hibiscus, one day we will have its flowers too.
I also sold a few more copies of my first book and I am almost ready to take on my next project. Soon the season of summer travels would arrive; vacations do not come gratuitously either personally or financially but they will take me to another place and that is always a plus.