Consulting the weather forecast circa 450 B.C.

This time of year (May-June) finds many of us consulting the weather forecast much like temple priests who hovered lamb entrails, searching for signs that their gods might treat them favorably. We scan, poke, prod and revisit the putrefying remains as if the dismal prognostication may somehow and mysteriously change.

With memories of great spring sessions, the last ones without even a shortie, still fresh in our minds, we are convinced that there will be one more good day, defying our knowledge of what happens this time of year - namely, nothing.

Many years ago, a Swiss psychiatrist, Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, hypothesized that we experience Five Stages of Grief, how we react and ultimately accept life-changing events. Most of us learned about this in our freshman psychology course but have forgotten it just as we forgot just about every aspect of chemistry and anything else important you've learned. In fact, I'm willing to bet a rusted fin screw that most of you can't name as many Supreme Court Justices as you can American Idol winners.

Nine people you've never seen.

Seven people you can't scrub off your eyeballs (well, six, excluding Carrie Underwood).

As I pored over the tea leaves from the NWS this afternoon, I realized that I, too, was experiencing these stages... just like I do every, single spring.

(late April to late May) - As the days get warmer, you still expect that this year, yes, this year, you will get your 4.5 wet. Even as the frequency and intensity of weather fronts diminish, you still block off your weekends because, "it's probably going to blow." While your neighbor is excitedly getting out his golf clubs, you load your boards on the car "just in case." It ain't gonna blow my friend.

If, by some miracle of the weather gods, there is a favorable forecast, you pack your 5.0, adhering to the maxim Bring Everything!. Yet, not once in your ten years of living in Atlanta, have you needed your 5.0 in late May. Not even once. You probably even pause and look at the 4.5 for a while before backing out of the drive way.

(mid-May to early June) - You've driven up to Van Pugh where not only can't you find a parking spot close to the water but there seems to be a soccer game where you usually rig. Even if you could rig, you can't launch because of all the fish hooks in the water. You are not in a good mood. Then you look out at the frothy foam of chop as ten houseboats, a loud race boat or two, fifteen jet skis, six pontoon boats and two ski boats dragging floats in circles churn the water until it becomes butter. What wind was forecast isn't at ground level. The clouds scoot by while the air is calm with the aroma of charcoal and two-stroke engines. You, my friend, are angry.

Your favorite launch being relandscaped.

Lake Lanier down by Buford Highway

You hate the forecaster who persuaded you to drive 45 minutes to this hell hole. You hate the people in your park taking your space. You hate Atlanta because the wind sucks here. You hate the arrival of warmer weather because you know it isn't going to get better.

(late May to June) - One more decent session and you'll pack your gear for the summer. Okay, just a day with a few puffs to plane on. Well, we'll settle for just a day to get out on the long board. Something, anything. The 7 day forecast shows some wind next week. Maybe we'll get an early tropical depression. Just one more day. Please. That's all, one more day.

I'd be planing if I had a bigger fin.

Okay, you say you'll long board or get a Formula board and really big sail. You've said the same thing the last three years but never got around to it. This time you promise that you'll practice freestyle and take advantage of the lighter wind. This summer will be different.

(June to early July) - You hate this time of year. You hate where you live. You hate yourself for living here. You read posts from New England and the Gorge - things are good there. It's really windy in Bonaire, Hawaii, the Mediterranean and Egypt. But you aren't there, you are here -staring at your walls as the AC drones on. Your miserable and then you hear the mosquito that came in when the dogs did (they don't want to be outside either).

This can be a dangerous time because when you are depressed, you think that a new board or sail will solve your problems. It won't but that doesn't stop you from maxing out your credit card on a new 3.7 and 65 liter board that you need. Really need. For those sessions where it's nuking even though you can't remember how many years ago it was when you actually got the chance to sail in those conditions.

(July and August) Memories of spring have faded. You are riding your bike, playing tennis with the neighborhood team. One of your old college buddies is in town and you are going to a Braves game together. You've moved on. You understand that while you loved windsurfing, you are at another place in your life now. You aren't reminded daily of your gear because it now sits six layers back in the garage behind the lawn chairs, grill, kids' bikes and stuff that really needs to get sold in a yard sale or maybe donated.

Windsurfing in August

You haven't looked at a forecast for weeks because each day is the same: high in the upper 90s, 20% chance of afternoon or evening thunder showers. Winds west 5-10 (the 10 coming only if lightning does, too).

Things are okay now. You are enjoying time with the family; the kids are back in school. And then, one day in September, you overhear the TV; "temperatures cooler this weekend and breezy."

Hallelujah and Amen.