...Please tell me it's not like eighty degrees in Malibu."
"It's not. It's raining, which means the natives are convinced the end is near and are engaged in ritual auto pileups in an attempt to appease the angry gods.
The road lay long and black ahead of them and the heat was coming now through the thin soles of their shoes. There were young beans pushing up from the dry brown fields, tiny rows of green sprigs that stretched away in the distance.
Larry BrownStichwörter: weather mississippi-authors
I don't know if there is actually more rain here in England, or if it was just that the rain seemed to be so deliberately annoying. Every drop hit the window with a peevish "Am I bothering you? Does this make you cold and wet? Oh, sorry.
Maureen JohnsonStichwörter: rain london weather london-weather perfect-descriptions-of-places
The days draw out, the weather gets warmer, and it's what we call summer, with a bitter laugh when we've said it.
Stan BarstowStichwörter: summer weather england
I entered literary life as a meteor, and I shall leave it like a thunderbolt."
[As quoted in Pol Neveux's introduction, Guy De Maupassant: A Study]
Stichwörter: death news birth weather sensations meteors natural-phenomena thunderbolt
You stand there, braced. Cloud shadows race back over the buff rock stacks as a projected film, casting a queasy, mottled ground rash. The air hisses and it is no local breeze but the great harsh sweep of wind from the turning of the earth. The wild country -- indigo jags of mountain, grassy plain everlasting, tumbled stones like fallen cities, the flaring roll of sky -- provokes a spiritual shudder. It is like a deep note that cannot be heard but is felt, it is like a claw in the gut.
Annie ProulxStichwörter: western atmosphere weather existential-crisis
Dangerous and indifferent ground: against its fixed mass the tragedies of people count for nothing although the signs of misadventure are everywhere. No past slaughter nor cruelty, no accident nor murder that occurs on the little ranches or at the isolate crossroads with their bare populations of three or seventeen, or in the reckless trailer courts of mining towns delays the flood of morning light. Fences, cattle, roads, refineries, mines, gravel pits, traffic lights, graffiti'd celebration of athletic victory on bridge overpass, crust of blood on the Wal-Mart loading dock, the sun-faded wreaths of plastic flowers marking death on the highway are ephemeral. Other cultures have camped here a while and disappeared. Only earth and sky matter. Only the endlessly repeated flood of morning light. You begin to see that God does not owe us much beyond that.
Annie ProulxStichwörter: wind western atmosphere weather landscape
Out here, everything was open, and the weather was the fabric of the world.
Erin McKittrickStichwörter: wilderness weather
The very sight of a daffodil still makes me shiver, because spring in the north of England is always so bitter.
Bea DavenportStichwörter: humour spring flower weather british daffodil
~A Comparison of Seasons~
Snow's unforgiving power causes some men to wish for spring's flower.
Some might hate snow's bitter chill, but you love it at your own will.
I see snow as something fun, but others might still long for summer's sun.
You and I hate summer's heat, but we still love the warmth of a fire on our feet.
Spring has jays whose virtuous songs are nice, but winter's lonely echoes are earth's frigged vice.
I enjoy spring's life, yet I still love winter's seemingly harsh sorrow; sometimes I can't get out of the house, so I worry about tomorrow.
I love the sight of snow and I treasure the sight of summer's river which swiftly flows.
Also, winter can be cold, but we can look forward to seeing spring's life and joy unfold.
Stichwörter: poetry seasons snow weather
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