Cloudy days bring their own blessings.
How tenpting it is to gripe about weather, but I just cannot do it after seeing the destruction caused by tornatodes and raging floods---and even snow over the weekend in Vermont Gray skies are no reason to complain.
As we have traveled, be that in Mexico, England, California, Iowa, or Tennesse/Kentucky/Florida, people inevitabley react to learning we live in North Dakota, with a sudder and a comment about cold. I tell them "There are worse things than cold---namely heat."
When the genetic project first became available, we took the DNA test. When I first read mine, I laughed out loud! There was the path my ancient female ancestors took out of Africa---around the eastern side of the Mediterranean, then back west and north, far north into Viking territory and England. To me, it was the proof that I do not tolerate hot weather well.
Several years ago, we attended a retirement party for a friend in Vegas. On the way, we stopped at Hoover Dam---an amazing creation built during FDR's administration to store water from the Colorado for the SW, to provide hydroelectric power, and to provide jobs during the Depression. The temps at the lower levels were well over a hundred degrees and as I waited for the elevator, I thought I would faint. Other people who waited did not seem bothered by the roasting heat.
Nevada is scarey---endless gray with little or no vegetation. The animals come out at night to avoid the heat, so I take comfort knowing that many mammals have the same reaction to the heat and avoid it. The lizards, snakes, and scorpions are cold blooded and seem to enjoy soaking up the unrelanting heat---but not me!
On TV, I have seen the sand storms in the Phoenix area desert. Me? If I have a choice, I'll take a snow blizzard. I have likely been influenced by my parents and grandparents who often spoke of The Dirty Thirties when the top soil blew away in black clouds and drifted like snow. My mother told of feeling so fortunate to have a job with the WPA and being sent to the Bowman-Amidon area where there was nothing green, and the horses were eating dirt!
Those family memories are etched in my brain. Rain is a gift, a promise that there will be green growth and another crop of water fowl.