Poetry Weather

I’m reading The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern. It’s a novel filled with books, stories and fantasy, pirates, keys and mystery. It seemed the perfect escapist read to dive into as we navigate days without power due to the most recent tropical storm. Our area was hit hard. Old trees were uprooted by the wind and power lines succumbed to the falling limbs.

That’s why I paused when I read this brief exchange in Morgenstern’s story:

“Sorry it’s so poetry today.”

“So what?” Zachary asks, not certain he heard her correctly.

“Poetry,” Mirabel repeats. “The weather. It’s like a poem. Where each word is more than one thing at once and everything’s a metaphor. The meaning condensed into rhythm and sound and the spaces between sentences. It’s all intense and sharp, like the cold and the wind.”

“Your could just say it’s cold out.”

“I could.”

What an interesting idea. Weather as poetry, sometimes muddled, sometimes very direct. Always something that requires a bit of thought and consideration.