It's electric, really, the oppressive heat and humidity, the denseness of the air, the sun beating down. The heat and humidity that causes sweat to cascade even when lying in bed might be uncomfortable, but when the air feels alive and the sun warms the skin and the light lasts until 9:30 PM, who cares, really? You can go outside, you can explore, walk, see the green grass sway in the breeze, the flowers in bloom, the trees green and full. At dusk the crescendo of bugs is deafening, crickets singing like they have the most important voice in the world. In July, fireflies danced over the grass and flickered and glowed and remember when as a kid we caught them?
In a matter of months it ends, the oppressiveness of the heat replaced by the oppressiveness of the cold, the dry, stale air, nipping at skin and preventing any outdoor activity unless suitably and bulkily covered and guarded. Another summer passes, this one, like many others, came and went too fast, the daylight shorter now, the sun a little less frequent, the warmth a little less extravagant, and all the while, my age a little bit older. Another winter of slipping on black ice, of clearing driveway and sidewalk, of car crashes and death and runny noses and steamed glasses and all the other things that winter brings. No sunlight, no sunsets, no fireflies, no crickets, no exposed skin. Just grey. Endless grey.