A Note on Pleasant Weather

My staff inform me the region has now enjoyed two weeks of pleasant weather, and that residents are pleased. I write to counsel against this.

I have seen ten thousand Julys. Past a certain number that stops being a boast and becomes a ledger. And I can tell you what the kind ones have in common: they are collecting on something. Rain is honest. It arrives, states its business, and leaves. Sun is a salesman. It lingers, remembers your name, assures you the terms are simple. Read the terms.

A young reporter on the weather desk asked me what these mild afternoons are building toward. I declined to say — not because I do not know, but because this publication confirms nothing, as a matter of policy, and I confirm nothing, as a matter of temperament. The policy came second.

Asked whether my own preparations were in order, I cited the ongoing situation in the watershed.

Enjoy the evenings. Open the windows, as the papers advise. But notice how quiet the birds get, some afternoons, around four. They are not resting.

— The Editor