Sunday, September 05, 2010
The joy of a gentle breeze
Yesterday morning I opened the back door to let the dogs out for the first time of the day. When I opened the storm door, a stiff breeze caught it, whipped it out of my hand, and sent it swinging on its hinges to bang against the house. A breeze! A little gust of honest-to-goodness fresh air! It seems like such a long time since I've wanted to hold my face up to the sky and inhale deeply.
This summer has been a brutal one, its harsh heat interrupted only by frequent afternoon showers. And for each minute of cool rain, we paid a price in higher humidity. On days like that, a deep breath felt like drowning.
I've stayed in the air conditioning as much as possible this summer, and so have Butch and Kadi. They haven't even wanted to stay outside long enough to roll in the grass or patrol the fence line. They'd run out, do their business, and race back to the house. This morning, though, I saw them lying happily in the grass. I envied them the freedom to do that without worrying about what the neighbors would think.
On days like this I wish I had a hammock. I imagine the peacefulness of being cradled by canvas and rocked by a gentle breeze. (I try not to imagine myself struggling to get into or out of the hammock; those mental images are why I don't have one.) There'd be a book in my hand for a while, then it would lie on my chest while I napped. The sun would be shining, but I would not be hot.
I know summer isn't over. I know there are more steamy days ahead of us. But the lower than usual temperatures yesterday and today have planted seeds of hope that relief is on the way. Seeds of hope and seeds of joy.