Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Matt Oliver
The way the local meteorologist described the way today was going to go weather-wise wasn't very encouraging, but he softened the blow by saying that it would be a lot better than yesterday. For some people, that's enough, but it all depends what you like in your weather. Some would prefer one like the one that was had around here yesterday - a beast of morning with snow dumping down, like the bottom of the sky's belly was just ripped open and there was no stopping it. It all cleared out and the hot streets, worked over by rubberized tires, melted that slush away by the middle of the afternoon as the temperatures dipped.
What we're getting today is something of a holding pattern, where we're in-between systems, just waiting out the days for the warmer air to push its way up from the south, to erase all effect of the whitening of a day ago. It will be like it never happened, but until then, we have a morning and an afternoon like this one. Everything on the ground level is blazing, cold white and everything from there on up is gray as a goose. Nothing's changing. It's just one solid color - one unbroken cloud that doesn't look like a cloud, more like a permanent fixture. What we do know, however, is that the way this all looks is going to be significantly different tomorrow and the next day. It will have changed, something that seems too illogical today, with the permanent wash applied.
Listening to Austin band Lean Hounds helps us with a day like this one, even as it reaffirms it. They make you feel like you're looking out at a spell, while it's all so temporary and lean. They add sweet contours to these sights, to the way that everything stands out, as it's set in. Lead singer David Shackelford sings, "To be strong is to be going, going, gone," and it's exactly where you stick yourself, when it gets this way, where it all looks backwards and clean.