I knew this would happen.
It happens every year – everything’s spring-like, breezes are carrying scents of lilac and other pretty-smelling flowers, temperatures are a comfortable 60’s to a barely scraping 70, and there’s just enough balance of rain and sunshine to make the gardens grow into a lush paradise.
And then BAAM! Temps ramp up to 90-100’s, the air feels like a thick pea soup in the lungs, and I might as well be a portable always-on sweat faucet.
How? How do I always know that this will happen, and yet I’m always surprised by Summer’s intense presence?
Even as I’m writing this now, I know tomorrow’s the Solstice and official start of summer. And yet, I’ve just spent 15 minutes installing, rather reluctantly, my a/c so I don’t end up dying from heat exhaustion in my third-floor bedroom and cursing the heavens the entire time (which by the way, stays really warm in the winter months. I’ve actually had to turn the thermostat down to a comfortable 64 degrees!)
Don’t get me wrong – I am grateful for Summer and everything she has to offer. I enjoy going to the beach and lounging on the sands while drinking a nice tall glass of iced tea under a giant umbrella. I also enjoy watching the fireflies dance in my parents back yard and getting to catch them with my bare hands. No, I don’t kill them!
I also love the fact that I don’t have to bundle up in 5 layers and trudge around as if I’m impersonating a penguin and having to tread carefully so I don’t slip on ice, and end up slipping anyway!
But would it really be so hard to graaaadually turn up the temps and allow us all to acclimate? Is that really such a difficult thing to ask?
L.J. LaBree 