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
