The weather
~Why I talk about the weather~

Kwok, Desmond, "Why I talk about the weather" Portable Xanga
San Francisco, CA. entry date: 10-07-05. page 46

I'm sitting here in the sun's warmth remembering a passage that i thought of during these times: "Even the sun's shine and warmth can't replace the warmth and security i had with Allan." Whether it be cold, storming, smoltering, Allan always had a way to lighten my load. I can recall raining nights where i'd go outside and listen carefully for his car to pull up in eager wait for his pressence. I can recall the fog that crept up on us on our "Ocean Beach to Golden Gate Bridge" hike, i WILL recall the hot days when he went off to go jogging and how much i wanted to join him, the cold summer nights huddled in our blankets, or next to his heater, or drenching our bodies of warm water, steam, and bubbles before bed. He was my heater, my security blanket, above all....he was "mine". I will recall his constant shivers and shakes, voice mails, text messages, and words ending with "Chee Chee bur" how i wanted to run to him with the blanket we shared, or a steamer, it was our way of saying to one another "i'm cold". Recall it all, all the weather, all the winds, cold nor hot, we shared it all. I'm sure he never thought so immensely about the weather, but each time it shifts...I recall. Those recollections burst out memories and moments that i've always wanted to grow from. That is why i used to and still do, tell people. "I for one enjoy talking about the weather". Watch it carefully and watch me carefully.
[end excert]

Like an unstable being all to itself, the weather in San Francisco can change completely within hours. One moment it may be warm and sunny, the next moment it's hailing and cold, few hours after that...the winds hold still and there is nothing but a cool air whisping around across the city streets. I've always thought of the Weather Reporters in this city as completely useless. They may spout 80 degree temperatures all day, and when you step outside it's all clouds, 60's, and wind. The weather will do whatever it wants to here.

My personality is pretty similiar to the weather here. It can switch and shift instantly. Going from one extreme to another doesn't seem to be unheard of in my life. It's more then that though, everytime it changes, the weather sets up selective scenarios of memory. Of course, the memories all have to deal with the weather it was during that time, but the overwhelming feel and sense-shock it provides...well thats where my love for the weather is at it's peak. The smell of the air, the feel of the moisture in the air, the heats and the colds, all team together to produce a moment that i shared. When i see the sun hitting the concrete, smell the rising odors of the grass from the heat, the sticky humid air upon my skin, i can recall the moments in a snap. Great moments under the sun, hot times when the world becomes dark, the flood of thoughts are only driven faster and harder when all i can think is "make more memories!"

When i talk about the weather, it's not just about how the atmosphere is swirling around, it's more like a question "What do you remember, when the weather was like this? Who were you with? What did you do?" While photos may jog other people's memories, they can not give you that same feeling as something that can physically affect you. It's like a fragrance that you suddenly pick up from a passer-byer, or a food you place upon your mouth. All these little triggers may work just as well, but one thing about the weather's ALWAYS there. In my mind i replay some memories...i mean, ask yourself:
What happened the last time there was a heat wave and you were over dressed?
Who were you with when you walked into a restruant and when you were finished eating, stepped out and it was pouring rain?
what were you wearing going through the park on a sunny day?