I’ve been trying to figure out why the weather we’ve been having has been bothering me so much. For one thing, it’s always the same – mid-80s and sunny. I expect more variety here, but over the past few years we’ve been slipping into a wet season / dry season pattern instead of the spring and summer I’m used to.
I also haven’t learned to appreciate the animals (grasshoppers) and plants (thistle? sedum? hens and chicks?) that thrive under these conditions – I’m still a novice naturalist, really. I enjoy fat and happy “normal” conditions, but it’s probably the stressful conditions that bring out the best in life – the strength and courage and toughness that lies dormant in better times.
So summer’s slowly drying up and turning to dust. Dessication. I want a build-up of heat and humidity, and lush, overgrown plants. Instead I find hard, weedy ground. I want a sudden break, a crack in the foundation under high towers of clouds, torrential rains and a cold wind to blow me, grateful, into the calm of autumn.