It may be because New Zealand is surrounded by water, has a relatively small landmass, with mountain ranges or hills criss-crossing the North and South Islands and is therefore at the mercy of weather patterns galore.
It may be because we Kiwi’s tend to be polite at the beginning of conversations.
It may be because we are a nation of people with access to all sorts of outdoorsy activities within a reasonably short time frame and distance* and a fondness for being outside regardless of the climate.
*Seriously, there are parts of New Zealand where you can ski in the morning and be at a lake or beach in the afternoon, if you get a move on. How lucky are we?
It may be because my Beloved and I live in a rural-ish area where the vagaries of the weather seriously impact our farming and equine communities and those that serve them, in some way.
Or it may be that having been together for over 20 years now, original, sparkling conversation is not always at the tips of our tongues.
Whatever the reason, talking about the weather is a frequent occurrence in my world.
It used to drive me nuts when I’d get a weather report in response to asking “how was your day?” when phoning in from another part of the country or overseas. (Eventually I learned to ask better questions but even so, the weather still always features).
A friend and I have a deal; we don’t talk about the downside of weather. We decided years ago not to waste precious time together ruminating over matters in which we have no control or influence. And despite sometimes behaving as if we are in control of the universe, we acknowledge that the weather is what it is. And does what it does.
We all know that Mother Nature is a powerful, unstoppable force. For that alone she is to be respected, held in awe and admired in all her glory. Even when that means our quality of life is impacted significantly, or as simply as a frost causing a late tee off time at golf.
Funnily enough though, now that I am enjoying having less time closeted in an office where the weather was completely irrelevant to me, and much more time actually noticing, and consequently enjoying, the seasonal changes (the passionfruit are ripening as I write!) my fondness for the weather and even words about it, has increased no end.
It occurs to me that perhaps it’s possible that this is why my retired Beloved speaks of it so often.
Where does the weather feature in your conversations?
What is your opening conversational gambit, if not the weather?
Tell us here.