A few years ago, I was in a writers’ workshop where we were given a group project of developing an alien culture. One premise was that this foreign planet was blanketed in thick clouds, blotting out the sun. Everyone in the group, aside from me, was from the western U.S. They had trouble imagining what it would be like to live continuously under a sky in which no sun could be seen – not even a faint glowing orb through the clouds. The idea of not knowing the sun existed or what it looked like was so foreign to them as to make the assignment difficult.
I live in the Midwest. None of this was hard for me.
It’s hard to be thankful for the unending grayness of the sky or the fact that it rains or snows at least every other day. But on the other side of this country, they pray for this. California is out of water and, not only is there no sign of relief from the drought, it would take months of rain to make a difference. Water is absolutely necessary for life, let alone our daily conveniences – like showers. And that’s what comes in those thick gray clouds still hovering above me – water. So there’s a reason to be thankful for their gloom after all.