Weather or Not

As I was thinking about today's blog topic, my mind kept wandering to poems I've written over the years. Specifically about weather. Especially about the kind of weather I like - cloudy, rainy, cool.  It turns out there's a word for people like me: pluviophile - a lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days.

The kind of weather I don't like - sunny, cloudless, hot. In fact, when we go without at least some clouds in the sky for a couple of days, I get restless. If we go without clouds and/or at least wind for more than a few days, I get cranky. If we go without rain for several weeks, I get sad. I'm serious. I feel depressed.

You've heard of seasonal affective disorder? People not getting enough sunlight in winter? I don't get that. I mean, I really don't get that. So when a beautiful sunny day shows up, and people are saying "what a beautiful day it is!" I do my best to smile and say "it sure is." As much as I prefer clouds and rain, I don't want to rain on their parade. I'm really glad for those people on those days. And besides, I do want to honor the great beauty in creation on those days. But give me rain and clouds any day. Every day. And if not rain, then at least clouds. Especially in summer:

I always knew I was different. No wonder I loved living in London so much. And in the Middle East so little.

My Kind of Summer Day by Annette Hadley, acrylic on canvas, 2014

My Kind of Summer Day by Annette Hadley, acrylic on canvas, 2014

And so, today I share my weather related poems, hoping they nourish you like a fresh rain shower after a drought.  Or a sunny day after a storm. Whatever floats your boat.


Winter's blowing snow

Spring's fragrant grow

Summer's morning glow

Autumn's letting go



Oh the comfort and calm of this cloudy morn, the soothing softness of new day born.

The rain, when it comes, joins the song of the birds, my well being, peacefulness, needing no words.

Would that it were like this day after day, clouds scudding 'cross skies, going on their way.

The sound - rain falling - my very soul feeds; I hunger, I thirst for the nourishing beads.

Of water, that which I love so dear, to feel, and hear it continue near.

As it falls from the sky. It nourishes earth. It brings new life, for me new birth.



Oh this rainy morning bed

Claims my body, toes to head.

Comfort seen and comfort felt,

Lying here, no speck of guilt.


Thunder Summerstorm

The thunder rumbles…

Thunder Summerstorm by Annette Hadley, digital design, 2016

Thunder Summerstorm by Annette Hadley, digital design, 2016

There is something that must be heard.

The rain pours from the sky.

Nature herself is crying. 

The storm intensifies: 

Listen to me! 

Listen to me! 

Crack! open the past... 

Crack! open the wounds... 

Flash! to see and be surprised by what follows...

It is dark.

It is scary.

It is consuming.

It is cathartic.

It will have its way and...

I observe it.

I do not change it.

It changes me.

For the better.

And for that I am deeply grateful.


Summer Said Bye-Bye

Summer said bye-bye last night, whisked away by storm.

It's cooler in the night time now, days not hot, just warm.

My soul, relieved, can breathe again,through nature's changing flow.

Soon it will be autumn time, the season to let go.


Autumn Leaving

I watch the leaves falling in the

Bright-crisp autumn air.

I want to catch each one in my hands

And whisper "thank you for teaching me about letting go."

And I understand that

The trees must let go too;

And sometimes

That leaves them crying.



I haven't written a poem about winter… yet. But I will tell you one thing. I ALWAYS make a snow angel.

Snow Angel by Annette Hadley, body on snow, Tromso, Norway, 2008

Snow Angel by Annette Hadley, body on snow, Tromso, Norway, 2008

At least once a year. And winter is on its way.

Like the poems in this post? Check out my poetry page for more, and then pop into the store


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