"Delay is natural to a writer. He is like a surfer—he bides his time. Waits for the perfect wave on which to ride in. He waits for the surge (of emotion? of strength? of courage?) that will carry him along." (E.B. White, The Paris Review Interviews, 1969)
I share an obsession with my colleague Marion Mahony. We both like to look at the weather online while we are sitting inside. There is something so satisfying about watching the colored spray of doppler rader exploding across a map of your town. Marion likens it to the sublime.