Tuesday, March 15, 2011
There are two seasons in Scotland: June and Winter. - Billy Connoly
Once upon a time, my life consisted of hundred-degree Kansas summers. Years later, sunny Lisbon winters. I'm not a winter person unless it's sunny and I'm snowboarding. Yet I've lived in Seattle and Prague and Scotland. Voluntarily.
I can't remember the last time I felt the sun for longer than a ten-minute stint in the afternoon.
"Nice" now means "not raining". Temperature doesn't even come into it. Life is colder up here because of the moisture in the air, which is brilliant for the skin but frigid for the bones. Like the Eskimos and their words for 'snow', Britain has numerous words for 'rain', which the weather reporters use with vigor: drizzle, showers, precipitation, stormy, dampness, sprinkles. And my favorite: unsettled.
And up north, here where the air is so fresh I get light-headed sometimes, the skies give us millions of shades of grey. Right now is almost white, with a greenish hue. This morning had a yellow tinge, and the green grass looked fluorescent. I never knew that one cloudy day could be so different to the next.
Image above taken in the hall of the Aberdeen Royal Infirmary. I love the map dress.