This Isn't Ireland...

Lucy Yeager
March 3, 2026

Saturday's weather was lovely. Temps were in the 40s, and there was a bright blue sky. As per usual, overnight, we slid back into a winter pattern with temperatures in the 30s, mixed precipitation, and gray, gray, gray skies. By this morning, the persistent drizzle was back, washing everything in a bleak monotone, creating icy patches in unexpected spots. I live in Cleveland. 

Five years ago, I uprooted my family from St. Petersburg, Florida, and moved on purpose to Cleveland. (That's a sentence that probably has never before been written or admitted to.) Nearly every Clevelander who hears my relocation story insists that I got it all wrong; most people leave Ohio to move to Florida! I say, you all do not realize that living in Florida is different from vacationing there! 

Anyway, believe it or not, I love Cleveland, even these rough winters. In fact, the weather reminds me of the glorious six months I lived in Cork, Ireland, in 1991. I was colder in those months than I've ever been, including my college winters in Maine and my five recent Cleveland winters. It was deeply, penetratingly gray, hence many hours spent in various pubs with excellent beer, music, and camaraderie. 

So, my wondering today is born of a comparison. Why do many dream of Ireland, but disparage Cleveland? I do understand the differences, of course, but if we just focus on the weather, it does not add up. The way I see it is that those never-ending, wet, gray stretches in Ireland and Cleveland make possible the long-lasting verdancy and abundance of June, July, August, September, and October, plus those same winter stretches create a yearning in the people who squeeze every drop of joy out of spring, summer, and fall. Why can't people appreciate that? Cleveland is the Ireland of the Midwest! By the way, we have the beer, music, and camaraderie covered, too. But what do I know? I'm the one who left Florida with zero regrets.

Cleveland go Bragh (Cleveland Forever)!

 

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