In texas, we have, what I call, the sound of heat. After living here for fifteen years-give or take a couple of brief moves-I can tell by the sounds from outdoors exactly when the summer heat has arrived. it is the small vibrating click of cicadas. the sound travels from every direction in waves. it makes me feel like I'm in one of dad's favorite westerns. on a horse. on the side of a mountain in the desert. standing by a small cluster of large, dry boulders with one or two little shrubs around them. and a rattlesnake curled up, rattling, and ready to strike. let me see if I can find an old comic book cover to really show you how it feels...
okay, here;
recently I was given a computer, which I sort of forgot to remove from the back of my car and got very lucky, because it still works- so, today I went to get it out of my car. I carried it all the way to the porch as it singed my fingertips.
I guess I wasn't thinking. but once I got it inside and set it down, I looked down at my fingertips and they are oh so pink and burnt. I suppose from working with coffee all the time, I'm used to my burning fingertips, but this time it left a mark. and this is when I acknowledged the sound of heat. I should know to heed warning from the sound before slinging around metal that has been sitting in a hell fire oven of a car for days. alas, this is my one brainless move of today.
but really, I'm ready for summer to be over. even the juicy little tomatoes in the garden are beginning to dry and prune from the heat.
I love the hills and the country of Texas, but during the summer I am relieved to be in Central-ish Austin. The outdoors can be so wonderful most of the time, even in the heat, but a bicycle ride in the city to my favorite watering hole is somehow a more realistic notion than traipsing around in the sun, looking for a true watering hole in the hill country.
I'm pretty sure I'm just saying all of this to justify to myself why it is good for me to stay in the house today. what is so scary about the heat? discomfort? is it me being lazy? since I have a difficult time sweating, does the heat effect me more than most? I love the cold. I'm pretty sure it was a decision that I personally made... to love the cold. I'm attempting to recall a time when I even tried convincing myself that I love the heat. Occasionally I will climb into an oven-y car in the summertime and feel a deep, hot pressure and I will think to myself. 'wow. if only heat could feel like this all the time.' I'd probably die of heat stroke because I would lock myself in hot vehicles. like those babies that parents forget in their cars at day care centers. I know. it's a terrible notion, but maybe, just maybe, the last feeling those babies feel is that comforting deep, hot pressure.
or maybe I'm just hoping that it's not as terrible as it sounds.
so.... that's probably kind of a stomach-flopping subject for most to read. sorry about that.
it's reality, sort of.
>photo by laurel coyle
2 comments:
stomach flops are good. writing thoughts down is even better.
what i like about the heat is being in a really cold movie theater for 2 hours, then stepping out and feeling the heat while walking towards the car / going home. it feels like a massage. like a back scratch, but all over and without scratching
i like keeping the air conditioner off at night, because i fall asleep rather quickly and so never get a chance to feel uncomfortable. then when i wake up, the temperature feels absolutely normal to me, but when i stand up and check it its usually between 80 and 85, depending on how hot a night it was. this is kind of a nice feeling, knowing that i can feel fine in the warmth. sunlight gives me a headache after a short while though, so i try to limit that - but the warmth itself is nice, especially with the windows open in the morning, so the birds outside are louder and i can hear the tops of the trees outside my patio rusting in a slight breeze (i'm on a 3rd floor).
once afternoon kicks in the heat gets oppressive, and thats when i morph into "i love a dark interior with cold air conditioning" mode. brings back memories of being on the 2nd floor of the half price bookstore in san antonio as a kid, on a hot summer day, sitting in front of the science books with a really strong and cold air conditioning vent smack in front of my face, aah that felt sooo good
Those poor babies are probably screaming bloody murder for an hour. And then, yes, they fall gently asleep and succumb and accept the glory of hot and death. Then Jesus takes them and puts them in a nice iced holy water bird bath. So, don't fret honeys! It's strange hearing people talking about the heat and you, being tired of it already. I'm still waiting to wear short sleeves. There was a week back in May when I think it made it into the 80s. Riding my bike home last night at 2 was a freezing (all downhill) experience. The weather is beautiful, no doubt, 75 and partly cloudy everyday is nothing to complain about.
When the sun comes out after a week of clouds here in Portland people flock to it. Every house's innards are sprawled out on lawns and playing some ball game in the street. People are everywhere and ecstatic. For some reason people think they can drink booze anywhere they want. The dog park, a short walk through the wildlife refuge, down by the river is a carnival. Doggies forgetting people and chasing each other through the greenest shit I've ever seen.
That heat pressure from a car that's been out in the sun is just a glorious, glorious thing. But not feeling that, like when you get on a bike, is so much gloriouser. I love the way you write your thoughts, wagon.
I go for a walk and let the sun hit me and then I lie down in the grass and read til I sleep. And then I walk home and sleep. And I feel euphoric and silly. I don't remember the sun ever making me feel sleepy, euphoric and silly before. It used to be just a hot ball of fuck you shooting down on me like a ray gun from Mars!
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