Amiens is friend to no weatherman: her cloud breaks and spots of drizzle make for predictions no more successful than your telephone soothsayer’s.When visiting Limoges in late February, my friend told me about his mother’s gaffe when she moved there from Amiens. She would go everywhere with an umbrella wedged under her arm. Her first friends in the neighborhood gently teased: why, they asked, would she lug that thing with her on sunny days? It was a holdover habit from her youth, she admitted. One day in Amiens might have announced with a crisp morning sun, transitioned quickly to drizzle, breathed through a streak in the clouds and, finally, simpered into foggy evening.