If I hear one more person complain about the weather in Cleveland, I’m going to scream. We just had the most glorious spring/summer/fall season in my memory. 

So now it’s (almost) winter. 

And we don’t have four feet of snow already like states in the north and west. Ohio is not on fire or being drowned in mudslides like California. We also don’t have much to fear from tornadoes, even less from hurricanes, and in spite of what some visiting baseball teams might say, the spring midge season here is nothing compared to black flies in Maine and Alaska.

Why are Clevelanders predisposed to see only gloom? Every part of the country has at least one bad season. Let’s embrace ours. 

So the skies are gray. Big deal. At a conference in Seattle a few years ago, it rained constantly for a week and the fabulous scenery was nowhere to be seen.  The hotel lighting was so dim you could barely read your room number, the telephone scratch pads next to the bed were made of black paper with a white pencil for notes (I am not kidding), and the registration desk sold sunglasses. Talk about a city of optimists! Talk about embracing your reality!

I refuse to fall into the sad, apologetic habit of listing the obvious attributes of my city. I will just applaud the attitude of a young woman I ran into on the elevator last week, all bundled up against the early snow and gushing about how she loved being in a city with seasons. “Just think,” she said, “I get to buy a whole wardrobe of boots! And look at how I can accessorize with hats and gloves and cool scarves!”

Now that’s celebrating the season.