This has been a summer for the record books. Day after day of temperatures soaring above OMG had everyone on edge and the devil running for shade.
There wasn’t enough rain to fill a thimble and farm animals sought refuge in empty ponds. It was relentless. I knew summers in Oklahoma were hot but that was freaking ridiculous!
And then just as quick as it arrived, hot seemingly disappeared overnight. One day the mercury was shooting out the top of the thermometer like an oil gusher and the next I was digging around in the closet for a jacket.
A/C’s turned off, windows flew open and summer heat gave way to autumn’s approach. So here I sit this morning with the windows open, a nice cool breeze airing out the house, a bright morning sun pouring through the trees and I am consumed with gratitude. I get another day of breath and a house full of love. (And I’m not talking about my dogs either although they are head over paws.)
Autumn arrived a couple of days back with little fanfare. One day it was summer and the next it was fall. The ever forward march of life soldiers on. So far it’s a great day and nothing spectacular happened other than waking up and smelling the awesome scents of the season. Or was that dog breath in my face.
They’ve been calling it a heat dome. I’ve been calling it simply, “OMG!”
Temperatures soaring above 100° for weeks on end, stealing color from the grass, nourishment from the soil and peace from the inner-spirit. Farmer’s have cursed the relentless ignition of the summer sun, robbing their field of crops and their pockets of income. The unprecedented swelter of 2011 has blanketed middle America for weeks on end with no end in sight.
Through the dog days of summer what little refuge to be found was a small room with the little air conditioner that could — a treasure box of cool air filling the space with escape.
Day after blistering day the dogs would look up, their eyes screaming, “You have got to be kidding me!” Together we fought the battle of summer in that little paradise of coolness, clinging to the little respite and counting the days until the blazing sun would release her scorching grip.
Today the rains came to intervene. The sweet smell of rainwater sifting through the leaves was like perfume, an aroma missing for far too long. The loud crack of thunder and flashing spark signaled a line drawn in the heavens. The rain played hero this morning and I sat on the porch in wonderment and watched puddles dance a celebration of victory, each droplet a little orb of hope for the next coming day.
I’m a little curious. Who pissed off the heat gods? Did summer decide it was tired of playing second fiddle to spring and fall, and say, “Okay guys, back off. I’m in charge now! I’m going to bake the planet like a toll house cookie, dark around the edges and a gooey mess.”
I’m hoping autumn gets tired of the summer bully, steps up a little early and says, “Enough of this crap. Can’t you see what you are doing to the tomatoes?”
So here I sit, living with the little air conditioner that could, until around 3:00 in the afternoon when it says… “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
You know it’s hot when you can’t get cold water from the faucet marked “Cold.”
I just hope Old Man Winter is going to be good to us. Then again… he may be doing his best Jack Nicholson impression…