I don’t think the phrase, “it’s a beautiful day,” is appropriate for a place like Dublin. Now, to make things clear, let’s classify a “day” as the time when the sun comes up until the moment it disappears again over the horizon. Others may have their own idea of “day,” but I’m going to have to discount lazy people who sleep past noon or others who go to bed before some of us have had dinner. Here in Dublin, the phrase, “it’s a beautiful day,” should be changed to something more like, “we had a beautiful morning,” or, “what a beautiful afternoon!”
Here is why. Since the moment I have entered this country, I don’t think I’ve experienced a single day where the weather has been constant. Sure we’ve had beautiful moments, or the majority of a day has been graciously awarded with sunshine, but those moments last about as long as it took for them to arrive. Quite frankly, the weather in this city is crazy. It only takes a moment for the sunshine to clear out; or the rain to clear out for that matter. Just this past weekend, every morning was riddled with rain, but around 1, the clouds would break, and the rest of the day would be fairly nice. One minute it’s windy, the next it is calm and peaceful. There will be thunder, but while the sky is bright and clear. Last night, I watched the remnants of a gorgeous day fade behind dark, ominous clouds, while just a second ago, the rain that occupied most of my day disappeared and sun poured in through my skylights.
Now, I don’t know what makes a person decide to be a weatherman in this country. It’s got to be next to impossible to predict the weather here. I’ve heard forecasts that predict a “mix of sun and rain.” That’s got to be about as accurate as they’re going to get!