Changing Weather Quotes

August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.

This autumn- why am I growing old? bird disappearing among clouds.

In the Spring, I have counted 136 different kinds of weather inside of 24 hours.

Climate change is hugely exacerbated by changing patterns of how we choose to live, often in danger zones such as extremely vulnerable coastal zones - from New Jersey to the Philippines. This enormously increases the economic and human costs of hurricanes, rising seas and changing weather patterns.

November's sky is chill and drear, November's leaf is red and sear.

I like the way the morning can be stormy and the afternoon clear and sparkly as a jewel in the water. Put your hand in the water to reach for a sea urchin or a sea shell, and the thing desired never quite lies where you had lined it up to be. The same is true of love. In prospect or contemplation, love is where it seems to be. Reach in to lift it out and your hand misses

Not yesterday I learned to know The love of bare November days Before the coming of the snow.

Outside the leaves on the trees constricted slightly; they were the deep done green of the beginning of autumn. It was a Sunday in September. There would only be four. The clouds were high and the swallows would be here for another month or so before they left for the south before they returned again next summer.

Three things a wise man will not trust, The wind, the sunshine of an April day, And woman's plighted faith.

For I have seyn of a ful misty morwe Folowen ful ofte a myrie someris day.

I came from Mechanicsville, Virginia, where you have four seasons.

My district has been hit with three 500-year floods in the last several years, so either you believe that we had a one-in-over-100-million probability that occurred, or you believe as I do that there's a new normal, and we have changing weather patterns, and we have climate change. This is the science.

In Shakespeare the birds sing, the bushes are clothed with green, hearts love, souls suffer, the cloud wanders, it is hot, it is cold, night falls, time passes, forests and multitudes speak, the vast eternal dream hovers over all. Sap and blood, all forms of the multiple reality, actions and ideas, man and humanity, the living and the life, solitudes, cities, religions, diamonds and pearls, dung-hills and charnelhouses, the ebb and flow of beings, the steps of comers and goers, all, all are on Shakespeare and in Shakespeare.

Other seasons come abruptly but ask so little when they do. Winter is the only one that has to be relearned.

Sailors on a becalmed sea, we sense the stirring of a breeze.

I've lived in good climate, and it bores the hell out of me. I like weather rather than climate.

The conditions change so much at the French Open, you know, you have to be prepared for something you really don't know what it is. You can practice in the morning and it's fine, and the weather is great then you come to play in the afternoon and it is drizzly and the conditions are totally different.

Days decrease, / And autumn grows, autumn in everything.

Soon we will plunge ourselves into cold shadows, and all of summer's stunning afternoons will be gone. I already hear the dead thuds of logs below falling on the cobblestones and the lawn.

Through the dripping weeks that follow One another slow, and soak Summer's extinguished fire and autumn's drifting smoke.

What of October, that ambiguous month, the month of tension, the unendurable month?

The last dregs of winter spoiling the taste of everything.

Autumn seemed to arrive suddenly that year. The morning of the first September was crisp and golden as an apple.

Pleasantly, between the pelting showers, the sunshine gushes down.