Being grateful for grey skies...
It has been a week of devastation. The gun massacre in Colorado was a stark reminder of man-made ruination while raging mother earth evils recalled the threat of natural destruction. Violent wildfire in Spain killed four tourists, ten died in torrential rain in Beijing and the continuing American drought has jeopardised thousands of livelihoods. There is no doubt, we are at the mercy of environmental fate and events like those past only serve to highlight just how small and dispensable we are on planet earth.
Ireland, nestled between the Atlantic and Irish Sea, is geographically defended by the swirl of natural disasters that sporadically stalk the globe. As a nation we are largely shielded from the menacing brigade of tsunamis, hurricanes and earthquakes that lurk not always far away.
Yet it is not this luck implicit in our locality but our relative misfortune in hosting eternal grey skies that takes the spotlight in our news. Despite this meteorological safeguard, our mediocre weather tops the list of our ill-fated grievances. We have reached such grumbling heights that we have taken it up a notch- moaning about moaning is a new Northern Irish speciality. We are never happy and we like to discuss the workings of this morose attitude. Daily.
Yet you'd think these cataclysmic events would bring our moaning selves back down to earth. Much like a friend's cancer diagnosis makes us grateful for our own good health, or a neighbour's divorce makes us thankful for our happy marriage, the weather calamities inflicted on many surely should bound us to be appreciative for our mild and dreary yet non-destructive climate.
After all, our abysmal sunshine count does not lead to immediate disastrous consequences. It means winter coats in spring, soggy feet in August and not nearly enough sizzling barbecues. It does not endanger lives nor does it have to fix a perpetual gloomy disposition.
With these recent tragedies, there is a thread of guilt interwoven in these habitual weather rants, like the guilt embedded in throwing away food, scrapping off leftovers to a nagging, “That's a sin. There's starving children in Africa!” Granted, gobbling unwanted greens or dancing through Belfast's rainy streets won’t help those less fortunate yet it would serve to help us recognise and appreciate how good we've got it.
Yes, it would be lovely to enjoy the sunshine bliss somewhere the grass is greener but undoubtedly those in weather danger zones are dreaming of the predictable monotony of our weather. So, isn't it about time we quelled our mumbles and grumbles and accepted our drizzly lot? Perhaps, go one further and be content, even revel in our year-round autumnal season. The Gods could've been kinder, but they could've been so much worse. We'll take what we've been given.
