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If you're in Boston, I don't need to tell you about the weather today, and you probably don't want to hear about it anyway. For those of you not in Boston, we've just gotten a taste of what to expect for the summer.
It's not thinking weather. As soon as you step outside, your lizard brain kicks in. Forget about degrees, education, even speech. All you want to do is find a rock somewhere to lie on, soak up the heat, and gain any little amount of comfort you can from that hot breeze. What a tease. You want the wind to be cooling. You want a break from the relentless heat. What you end up with is hot air pushed over your skin, pressing down on it.
The heat isn't all bad. In fact, it's far from a horrible day. Sure, hot weather like this lends itself to a torpid state. It puts a damper on intimacy too; being hot and sticky sounds like fun, but the reality is anything but. The heat does unlock the door of memory too. I walked outside to get a feel for the heat, and to crack my windows so my car wouldn't slow roast me on the drive home. I didn't feel like I was at work when I walked back to the office. I felt like I was on the beach, in the Outer Banks perhaps, or Beach Haven, NJ. I smelled the salt water air, heard the cries of gulls, the distant dull incessant noise of the sea. It was a reminder as well of the pull of the outdoors. You can stay inside you all you want during the winter, but there's a world out here to play in. Feel the sand between your toes. The salt water drying on your skin.
It's a damn shame that my folks aren't going to the Outer Banks this year. I likely couldn't have joined them anyhow, due to lack of vacation time. But eventually I will have vacations again. I want to return to the Outer Banks, or somewhere like them. I want a bunch of my friends to make the trek with me. I want a long week of throwing Frisbees, being paranoid of sharks, cool drinks and hot grilled food. I want to watch a storm pummel the sky and split the heaves above me. I want addled nights of laughter and debauchery, and transcendent mornings watching the sun birthed out of the ocean.
Let it be so.
It's not thinking weather. As soon as you step outside, your lizard brain kicks in. Forget about degrees, education, even speech. All you want to do is find a rock somewhere to lie on, soak up the heat, and gain any little amount of comfort you can from that hot breeze. What a tease. You want the wind to be cooling. You want a break from the relentless heat. What you end up with is hot air pushed over your skin, pressing down on it.
The heat isn't all bad. In fact, it's far from a horrible day. Sure, hot weather like this lends itself to a torpid state. It puts a damper on intimacy too; being hot and sticky sounds like fun, but the reality is anything but. The heat does unlock the door of memory too. I walked outside to get a feel for the heat, and to crack my windows so my car wouldn't slow roast me on the drive home. I didn't feel like I was at work when I walked back to the office. I felt like I was on the beach, in the Outer Banks perhaps, or Beach Haven, NJ. I smelled the salt water air, heard the cries of gulls, the distant dull incessant noise of the sea. It was a reminder as well of the pull of the outdoors. You can stay inside you all you want during the winter, but there's a world out here to play in. Feel the sand between your toes. The salt water drying on your skin.
It's a damn shame that my folks aren't going to the Outer Banks this year. I likely couldn't have joined them anyhow, due to lack of vacation time. But eventually I will have vacations again. I want to return to the Outer Banks, or somewhere like them. I want a bunch of my friends to make the trek with me. I want a long week of throwing Frisbees, being paranoid of sharks, cool drinks and hot grilled food. I want to watch a storm pummel the sky and split the heaves above me. I want addled nights of laughter and debauchery, and transcendent mornings watching the sun birthed out of the ocean.
Let it be so.
