Summer Time

Today is June 1st. While Summer does not officially begin for several weeks, I feel compelled to address the turn of the season. I live in New England and am therefore blessed to encounter each season in new and exciting ways every year. The weather, the foilage, the smells, everything changes at least a dozen times a year and sometimes I can't even imagine what it was like to live just two months ago. Right now the humidity is overpowering, everything feels wet. In addition to all of the humidity, the temperature is rising. The past week has been brutal, a living sauna, hell on earth without a clear reason for damnation. I stepped into my car and literally watched sweat seep out of my skin. The nights are still cool, but this will only last so long. Before long, the Northern Summer Air will creep through the windows and sweat through the walls and there will be no safe haven from its oily and malignant arms. This has not happened yet, and I am still gloriously happy with the changes. I have not yet forgotten the old; the cold; the snow and the bitter ice and the constant salt stains on every surface. The summer is still my lover. I have not yet grown tired of her. She has not yet suffocated me. But I have played this game every year for years and years. Soon I will look desperately ahead for the icy, chilling embrace of winter.