Questions

I’m ready for fall because this summer has felt relentless. Today’s ninety degrees might sound mild, compared to the year’s earlier high temperatures, but the air is so thick with humidity that I feel out-of-breath. What’s more, the yard’s mosquitoes no longer confine their activity to dusk. They descend in a visible cloud as soon as I set foot outside, and they seem immune to repellents.

Twenty minutes was all I could stand, this afternoon. Then I fled to my office, immensely grateful for the luxury of air-conditioning and fans. Grateful, also, for books and computers and sleepy cats.

And when I say “grateful”, I’m talking about the marrow-deep, guilty gratitude that comes from acknowledging my unearned leisure.

I cannot embrace a purposeless world, one ruled by selfish survival and numb probability. And yet, I can’t deny the powerful evidence of observation. Fate does appear random. Life is decidedly unfair. Very bad things happen to very good people, while very good things have happened to me even though I have done nothing extraordinary. Who am I, to deserve these gifts of comfort and freedom? And what should I do with them?

Mushrooms

After a few days of clouds and rain, mushrooms are taking over the yard. With the help of my camera’s macro function, it feels like a glimpse of Wonderland.

From the Cat Archives

My morning was all thunderstorm and flooded streets as I splashed from errand to errand. Despite the miserable conditions, I finished my to-do list, then spent the afternoon pretending to be a cat.

Notes from the Yard

The yard isn’t exactly bustling, in this heat, but there are signs of life. Each day, more and more cicadas molt on the fence.

The young praying mantises have spread out into the iris beds.

And I’m still seeing pondhawks, though their numbers have decreased over the last two days.

Finally, I’m intrigued by this cocoon. What’s in there? My chances of finding out are slim, because it will likely emerge when I’m busy doing other things. Even so, I check on it several times a day. Just in case…

Dragonfly Weather

The heatwave continues. Every so often, an afternoon thunderstorm brings brief relief, but these storms are too scattered to offer any reliable remedy. The only creatures who seem to thrive are dragonflies.

My camera struggles in this weather. The lens fogs, whenever I step outside, and the camera’s body absorbs so much sunlight that it actually becomes uncomfortable to hold. I’m still getting my twenty minutes per day, but time in the yard is increasingly forced. Perhaps I’ll try the park, where a stretch of beach and plenty of shade might defuse the relentless heat.