The rain is so light that the merest whisper of wind creates whorls of miniature tornadoes. It brings me much comfort to be able to sit here by my window and observe the world outside. I like to look at the cars going by, the people sauntering on the sidewalks, and attempt to be a meteorologist studying the skies.
Not that I have a scientific way of reading the cloud patterns and barometric pressure and wind-chill factor. I go more by what my gut is telling me, how the wind feels on my skin, which way the little pinwheel is spinning. Oh well, if you must know, my secret mantra is “Red sky in the morning, fisherman’s warning. Red sky at night, fisherman’s delight.”
It’s as simple as that, I swear. Remember what Occam said?
“One should not increase, beyond what is necessary, the number of entities required to explain anything.”