I realized this morning that I have a weather puddle. When I'm here in Georgia I walk the dogs two or three times a day. Our walks take us past a large, roadside puddle (shaped a little like Long Island.) Sometimes, if it's been dry for a while, there's only a Long Island-shaped depression. It's like an unmade bed after the occupant has gone on to work. This morning the puddle was asleep under a wrinkled skim of ice.
The weather puddle is more real than the thermometer that hangs in back of the house. It makes me feel a kinship to previous generations -- the people who looked at the sky to check the weather and the time.
Of course, then I checked the iphone weather app to see just how cold it really is. So much for kinship!
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