Baltimore weather has been going through something lately. I do not know who hurt it, but it is clearly not okay.
One day I am walking to class in a cute dress, feeling optimistic about life and the fact that spring might finally be here. The sun is out. Birds are doing their little chirping thing. People are sitting outside like they suddenly remembered fresh air exists. I haven't seen so many people on the quad since the first week of class. It feels warm enough to convince me that winter has finally packed its bags and moved on.
Naturally, I believe this lie.
Because the very next day Baltimore wakes up and decides to completely lose its mind.
Rain. Wind. Gray skies that look like someone turned the brightness all the way down on the city. The temperature drops like it remembered something important. My cute dress suddenly feels like a terrible decision. I am walking across campus clutching my arms like that is somehow going to generate heat.
But Baltimore was not finished.
It was not.
Within hours the weather decides rain and wind are not dramatic enough. Now we are talking about snow again. Actual snow. At this point it feels personal. The same city that convinced me it was safe to wear a dress yesterday is now demanding I dig my winter layers out of the closet like winter never left.
So there I am once again bundled up like I am preparing for an Arctic expedition. Hoodie. Jacket. Layers I thought I would not need again until next November. My face hurts from the cold. My hands are frozen. It is late March and somehow I am questioning every weather decision I have made this week.
Meanwhile the sun will probably come back tomorrow just to keep the chaos going.
This is the thing about Baltimore weather. It never commits to a season. It samples them.
A little spring here. A little winter there. A sprinkle of rain. A dash of potential natural disaster just to keep everyone humble.
And the worst part is the psychological games it plays. It lets you believe spring is here. It gives you one beautiful day. Just enough warmth to convince you that it is safe to dress normally again. Just enough sunlight to make you think winter is finally over.
Then it yanks the rug out from under you.
Suddenly everyone is walking around confused. Half the people are in coats. The other half are stubbornly sticking to their spring outfits like they are protesting the temperature itself. Someone is wearing shorts. Someone else is wearing earmuffs. Nobody looks like they checked the same forecast.
At this point getting dressed in Baltimore feels less like checking the weather and more like gambling.
Do I bring a jacket? Do I bring two? Is it going to rain? Snow? Tornado? How about a tsunami this time? Who knows.
All I know is that yesterday I was enjoying spring in a cute dress, and today I am bundled up again wondering how winter managed to sneak back in like it forgot something.
Baltimore weather is not predictable. It is not reasonable. It is not stable.
And honestly, at this point, I am just trying to keep up.
