rainy and drizzly and dull
My kind of weather. Seriously.
Being British, I might suggest that it is
mine as well. Which doesn't endear it to me. Mind you, the other kind of weather Britain often gets ("Phew, wot a scorcha!") isn't my thing either. I've seen a lot of rain, during my life[1], having cycled through many forms of it on holidays all around our little island (and abroad, where I found it noticably different, due to the Continental affect). Mere drizzle just doesn't do it for me because about the only thing it's good for is keeping (most of!) the midges off one when in the highlands of Scotland, along winding and undulating roads with great plantations of conifer on either side and no real indication of when the general uphill trend will actually crest a ridge, or pass, turn into a general downward trend into the next glen.
Two kinds of rain make me utterly happy. The sudden big-dropped shower that throws up that
smell of baked earth, or nearsadamnit, after a long sweltering hot spell and your actual thunderstorm. Often enough, they're the same thing. When I first moved into my current house, it would be about 15 years ago now, one of the first few nights I was here I sat on my doorstep (sheltered by various features of my house, and the wind direction) and watched a really good electrical storm through the pouring rain. A UK-style one, of course, mostly sheet lightening and even if there was forked lightning I'm positioned on a hill such that there's always higher buildings ready to take a strike (and no chance of flooding!). Which is not to say I wouldn't like to see a Tornado Alley storm (with or without twisters), at least from inside a suitable safe vantage-point.
Sunshine doesn't do as much for me as I'm sure it ought to. Perhaps because our sunny days are ("scorcha"s aside) generally cool and breezy to the touch yet still require sunblock. I can get excited about hail, and the recent snows in this area (so bad that one day I didn't even bother leaving the house, just looked out of the window every now and then and giggled dementedly) give me something to enjoy. The trouble with that is that I end up putting an extra layer on and being far too warm. I usually stick with t-shirts for all weathers, and if I end up putting on an unfastened jacket that's mostly useful for the pockets I find myself wishing I'd left it at home or had a bigger backpack to put it in (alongside all the unused extra socks that I invariably carry in cooler-weather expeditions, just in case).
I still hark back to when I used to do Night Hikes with the scouts. Whether we lucked out or not, predominantly I remember them to be still-aired (or mildly breezy at most), dry (give or take the odd spot underfoot) and mild of temperature. And I've always prided myself on my night-sight, so was easily adapted to the starlight or light-polluted cloud-cover giving our main overhead illumination.
But that's weather, and now quite a bit deviated from the subject at hand.
[1] Boy, do I feel old, saying that.