Atmospheric Pressure and Bipolar Cycling — A. F. Compson

When it rains in Nashville, the world sounds like white noise. There is no drizzle, no mist; there is only rain water rushing down the Tennessee hills in stream-like puddles that threaten to flood the street’s drainage systems. I never believed that weather affected mood, especially not mine. From a young age, I adored walks […]

via Atmospheric Pressure and Bipolar Cycling — A. F. Compson

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