Meteorology

I remembered the other day that I used to want to be a meteorologist when I grew up. I have no recollection of why I wanted to be a meteorologist. I don’t remember particularly caring about the weather as a child. I only remember that there was a meteorologist on a local TV station who I wrote a letter to because I wanted to be a meteorologist like him, and he didn’t write me back, and my parents were salty about that on my behalf.

I’m baffled by this childhood affinity for meteorology, I don’t remember anything about my motivation there. Did I think the TV part was cool? I don’t remember ever aspiring to want to be on TV either, and there were plenty of other people on TV whose roles I could want if that was the case.

Meteorology was later replaced by marine biology (is there any child who didn’t want to be a marine biologist?), which I understand better because I loved the ocean and all its creatures and mystery and beauty, and if I liked something, I should get a job that puts me in proximity of that thing so I can be around it all the time.

It’s funny how we change throughout life, and get to know ourselves better. I love weather now in a way I don’t remember loving it as a small child who wanted to be a meteorologist. I love the raindrops beaded on the window as I type, and the sound of rain tapping against the roof. I love the way the sun and a blue sky bring me joy, wind makes me wistful, grey days allow me to rest and be cozy inside, snow brings quiet and peace and a sense of magic. I love experiencing the weather, and finding out what the weather’s like when I’m talking to someone who lives somewhere different from me, so that I can place them in their environment while we talk.

But despite loving all those things, I don’t want to study the weather. I just want to enjoy it. Same with marine biology. Just because I like something doesn’t mean I need to do a scientific investigation of it. I’d prefer to appreciate the beauty and feeling of it.