There are lots of things to dislike about Michigan, but the most common one that people complain about is the weather. Now can I understand in the sense that it does get impressively cold here, and you don’t see the sun for about 7 months of the year (seemingly). However, I actually like the weather in Michigan and the main reason I do is because you get to experience such a wide range of it. The summers can be 100 degrees with 90% humidity, and the winters can be -35 with 16 inches of snow. Now those are the two extremes, and I don’t necessarily enjoy either of those in particular, but I do love the fact that I get to experience such a wide range of weather by living here. I don’t know if I could get used to living in a place where the weather is just nice all the time (ie San Diego). I mean it would be wonderful at first, but after a while it just seems like it would get boring. What’s the fun in 72 degrees everyday?
Weather to me is a very spiritual thing. It’s something we have no real control over, and something that we’re all subject to. If it rains, we all get wet. If it’s windy, all of our hair gets messed up. And there’s really not much we can do about it. I think that’s an amazingly freeing sense. I don’t own an umbrella, and I don’t ever plan on owning an umbrella, because I feel like it closes me off from experiencing the weather. If it rains, it means I’m supposed to get wet, that’s the deal.
My favorite type of weather is the wind, I think probably because that’s the part of weather that feels closest to consuming you, if that makes any sense. There’s a certain cleansing affect in standing in the wind and just letting it blow through you. It reminds me of the last time I was ever truly scared of the weather.
I was probably 8 or 9 years old and I was at home. There was a tornado warning, and the weather was really really bad. Wind and rain like crazy. Suddenly the clouds seemed to part and the weather seemed to get nice, in fact the whole world seemed to have a greenish glow. I turned to my mom, desperate for reassurance and said “Hey, it’s starting to get nice out.” My mom responded “actually, that’s usually not a very good sign,” and she readied me to possibly get in the basement, should an actual tornado touch down. As my fear after that was reaching fever pitch, my dad got home from work, and scared to death I ran up to him and said “there might be a tornado” to which my dad replied “no, there won’t be a tornado, but if there is, you wanna go watch it come in over the lake?” So my dad and I drove down to the lake and watched the tornado-less storm roll in. It was both beautiful and terrifying.
That was the last time I can remember being truly afraid of the weather. Since then storms don’t so much inspire fear in me as they do awe. (sidenote: I really want to see a tornado in the flesh before I die. Hopefully it won’t be that that kills me)
So I encourage you try, even just once, not pulling out the umbrella and just walking in the rain. It can be a very freeing experience.