Thunder and mourning doves…in February

Summary

The author reflects on the unusually early occurrence of natural events such as thunderstorms and the return of mourning doves in February, drawing personal connections to these phenomena and the broader implications of climate change.

Abstract

The web content discusses the earlier-than-usual blooming of cherry blossoms and magnolias in Japan as indicators of climate-related changes, which aligns with the author's personal observations of out-of-season thunderstorms and the visit of mourning doves to their patio. The author refrains from engaging in contentious topics like climate change, politely keeping their views on the matter private. Yet, they acknowledge the observed changes in weather patterns as a sign of a larger shift. Drawing on childhood memories from Nigeria, the author describes the soothing effect of monsoon rains and thunderstorms, which they liken to white noise, lulling them to sleep. The article concludes with the author sharing their experience of February's unexpected weather events and their peaceful coexistence with nature's signals of change.

Opinions

The author prefers not to discuss sensitive topics like sex, politics, or religion, adhering to the lessons taught by their parents about polite society.
They perceive the thunderstorms and the early return of mourning doves trying to nest as signs of change, hinting at their personal observations of shifting climate patterns.
The author reminisces about the calming power of the monsoon rains during their youth, suggesting that such thunderstorms are a familiar and comforting presence for them.
Rain and thunder serve as natural sedatives for the author, inducing sleep without fear or annoyance—a phenomenon they wonder if others experience as well.
The author touches on the concept of natural white noise, with monsoon rains and thunderstorms providing a soothing background noise during their childhood.

The rains of Africa

So the cherry blossoms are set to bloom way earlier in Japan this year. Magnolia trees apparently are also blooming earlier this year — or so the internet tells me — I haven’t seen this for myself.

But what I have seen for myself are the wild thunderstorms of today, and my lovely mourning dove couple returning to my patio. Both of which are events that are like…2 months earlier than usual.

I stay out of topics you’d never discuss in polite society. Sex, politics, religion. My mama and papa taught me right. And this is a polite society we’re in, within Medium (and beyond) right?

So I stay out of the whole climate change views raging online and in person. I have my own views, which will remain within me.

But I will tell you those thunderstorms today? My darling mourning dove couple returning to try and make a nest? Well, to me that’s a sign of change.

It reminds me of the rains in Nigeria during the monsoon season. How the wind would suddenly pick up and flow through the entire house like a whirling dervish. And then the rains would start. And I swear I’d immediately fall asleep. I don’t know what it is with me and rain, but whenever there’s a heavy thunderstorm, I just fall asleep! Does this happen to anyone else??

It must be from my time growing up with the monsoon seasons and being soothed by the sounds of the rain and thunder. Right to sleep. Must have been my version of white noise at the time. But yeah without fail, thunderstorms make me sleepy, if I’m inside.

They don’t scare me, don’t irritate me. They make me sleepy.

There’s no huge point to this story. I wanted to share that this February I lived through thunderstorms and mourning doves trying to build a nest on my patio.

And so I fell asleep.

The end.