Kickass, the doorstop dog, joins the keeper in noting the appropriate weather that accompanied the arrival of Sunday, March 29, 2020 as the spinning planet wobbled from the unbalancing force of the coronavirus.
The day emerged from the darkness of night wearing a hooded cloak of black and gray, and after brief zephyrs of introduction hissed forcefully through the oak trees, it assumed the sighing character of a mourner. There was no promise of possible sunshine in the heavy overcast, and the weather statement of the morning was, “This is as good as it’s going to get.”
A distraught world resists applying such a negative assessment to anything but one day’s weather, that weather vividly symbolizing the temporary nature of all things.
So that’s where things stand on the morning of March 29, 2020: unpleasant weather and an ominous threat to human existence, both conditions impossible to avoid, but temporary, temporary, temporary!
(Kickass adds that when a date or a social gathering turns to talk of the weather, it is probably time to go home. That obviously also applies to Facebook rants.)