The weather is an every day natural occurrence we don’t have to think, talk, or act on it because it does what natural occurrences do best, simply exist. I am very well versed in the ways of weather, and how it can affect the world. Though, I Edward Swartze have a very unique case when it comes to how my life has been affected by the weather. So, let me start from the very beginning on December 25, 1999 in a town called Covington, Georgia.

The clouds were a dark and metallic gray flowing with the winds that rose at a speed so fast nothing could protect you from the cold it created. Yet, still here in the bright white, Covington Hospital a baby boy was born. The baby of course wasn’t wanted, and was sent into the relentless system of foster …show more content…
I managed to get a glimpse of the herders face while the tall man in front of me bent down to grab his dropped pen. The herder unlike the tall man in front of me was short, and a bit pudgy. Which made it no surprise that he had rather bushy facial hair resembling a caterpillar on his upper lip and a comb over that was slightly messy. Overall I had not recognized him. Yet, he continued with a rather solemn voice announcing,” Mister Chapman is deceased, and with his demise. There is now an opening for a new weatherman.” The crowd, being very angry, tried to out burst again but the herder slammed his meaty fist on the oak table. “With this being said. Interviews, and or auditions for the new weatherman will be conducted in a …show more content…
We can’t wait a month Mister Orwell!” called out a rigid voice in the crowd. I then recognized him, and with a bit of excitement thought about his statement. Who would do the weather in the mean time? I realized this must’ve been what everyone else was thinking. Yet, Mister Orwell must have an arrangement due to his calm expression. “We can because in the mean time,” he paused bringing a rather unfamiliar woman forward,” Miss Montana Pines will be doing the weather temporarily.” That is the importance of Mister Orwell; he is the owner of the station itself. So, with his statement of having this strange girl be a temporary fix, no one argued or made a single sound. I ignored the rest of Mister Orwell’s plans, and took in my probable new partner. “Miss Montana Pines” I mumbled under my breath looking her up and down. My eyes were scanning for potential rather than just looks. Though, her light strawberry blonde hair did catch the attention of my eyes. The pigment was intriguing due to it perfectly contrasting with her large hazel eyes and fair