Of course, you don’t need me to tell you that if you’re in the northern hemisphere, as it’s the middle of August. But I suppose it bears repeating: it’s stiflingly hot.
Times like this, one thinks about sitting on the doorstep or edge of the veranda around dusk, to catch the breeze, with a slowly trickling popsicle in one’s mouth, watching the dying rays of the sun sinking down beneath the horizon, perhaps to alleviate the heat if one isn’t blessed by the presence of air conditioning, or merely to feel the softer edge of what one has been hiding from, and the relief to return to the chilly embrace of indoors. Much like removing one’s sunglasses to see the heat shimmer, it can be mildly horrifying yet morbidly fascinating to see what one’s been avoiding.
But–hopefully–soon, the heat and the blaze of the sun will taper off, replaced with cooler breezes and the darkening and shriveling of the leaves as they tumble to the ground to cover the greenery of the grass, or perhaps clog up the gutters of the roads and the roofs, more of a nuisance than a beauty. (Is there such a thing as a beautiful nuisance? Is it possible to find beauty in a nuisance before it’s disposed of?) Hopefully soon, the days will grow shorter, bringing a respite from the blistering sunlight, before it grows too distant and cold during the frigid darkness of winter and we begin to long for its warmth once again.
But that moment of relief in between will be beautiful.
E. Seneca 