One thing I’ve noticed about weather-forecasting around here is that they seldom get it right. Every once in a while, I think I’ve merely “imagined” a forecast in one of my less-lucid moments.
Yesterday morning I got up and worked out in the yard, moving some plants, shoveling some leftover mulch, and so on. The sky got dark and darker, so I came in to look at the forecast. Hail. High winds. Thunder. Lightning. Heavy rain. Hmmm…
So I went back out and pulled the tender new potted plants under cover and did some general scurrying around to protect things. Golly, hail is coming. Hail. Everyone knows how bad hail can be.
Did it hail? Heck, no. It hardly even rained. It’s frustrating to keep falling for the forecasts. I feel like Charlie Brown when Lucy pulls the football away time after time. Just like Charlie, I get up, dust off, and keep hoping. Maybe this time, they’re right, I say to myself. But then… no, they’re wrong again.
So there seems to be a kind of a tradeoff. The climate here is gentler than parts north, but it must be really, really difficult to predict the weather. I can see how that would make the natives quite skeptical when hurricane season rolls around. “Nah, it ain’t comin’ here…” I’m turning into one of those weather skeptics myself.