The Weather Inside
Megan Apostol, Division 1, 6th grade #ws17e-s1d1

People ask why I am moody, melancholic, mad, merry, or miserable. All I can ever reply is, “Look outside,” while pointing out the window. Unlike others, my feeling depends on the weather and changes to match how it looks. If it’s pale, I feel lifeless. If it’s crying, I’m mourning. If it’s sunny, I feel exuberant. As the capricious weather changes, my mood coincides with its’ transference.

When water droplets descend from the sky and the Earth turns gray, my feelings begin to change; everything changes. The trees start to shiver in warning, the wind howls, and the tears start flooding the landscape, turning dry dirt to sloppy mud. Looking out my window, all I can see is pure misery. I see pedestrians trudging against the wind, their umbrellas turning inside out. I see dogs scurrying with their owners, their fur drenched and covered with debris. Pandemonium reigns. Wailing wind knocks down trees, torrential downpour fills rivers and lakes, and I battle internally with chaos. My mood shifts from turmoil to fury, frustrated to see everyone scrambling. I want to shout and yell for all the commotions to halt. As if realizing that all on Earth cannot bear the toll, the weather calms the storm to slumber, rewarding us with a magical surprise.

This wonder always brings me great joy, an arch of mystical colors stretching across the vast sky. In the welcoming sunrays, children frolic with laughter, savoring the day of warmth and happiness. I visit my small garden, a couple of tomato plants, a bell pepper plant, a fig tree, and a few citrus trees. In my sanctuary, I harvest the ripe fruits, removing excess leaves and harmful insects. Thanking the sun and the rain, the two elements, for nurturing and sustaining my small plants to good health. Gratitude and contentment fill my heart. Taking the ripe fruit inside and washing them, my thoughts switch when I see a dark cloud sailing in. Soon children will be miserable. Soon the sunscreen will be tossed aside. Soon the sun will be hidden once more. Everything adverse will happen momentarily, but when will the horrid blizzard that's been rumored take place?

I watch the news, then wait, watch the news once more, then wait again. Repeating this ritual for weeks, months, now years, the warning of a blizzard emerges, but later declares as a false alarm. Perhaps the blizzard will never approach. But, to prepare for this day, I must mentally disagree with the weather; belittle it, making it fearful of me. Everyday I battle against the weather, try to be contrary, but fail most of the time. This is what makes me different, unique, and special.This trait, to be one with the weather is what I cannot fight against. It becomes part of me and forever it will be. This trait, true only to me, sets me apart from the world.
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