Summertime makes me restless. There’s something so unwholesome about sitting inside in the shade and positively cold with the air conditioning going when outside it is sweltering, unmercifully hot and so humid it feels like you might drown. I get unbearably anxious being inside on a summer day, no matter how “gross” other people think it is outside. I crave the sunshine and the heat, the sweat trickling down my knees. (Don’t get me wrong, though, when it’s time to go to bed at night- my god am I ever glad I have air conditioning!)
And today when I was out enjoying this ghastly, oppressive heat, it started to rain, just lightly at first and then a downpour. I opened my arms and turned up my face, and drank the rain right from the sky (then I stopped because I think rain is probably polluted but whatever).
The rain soaked my clothes, the water was cold. I imagined the rainstorm starting somewhere far away north in Canada, bringing water all the way down here. I imagine the pine trees and glaciers and mountains with their snowy peaks. I imagine the storm brewing out in the Atlantic, with nothing but water and clouds for miles and miles. I imagine the rain moving farther south to nourish Central America and the equatorial tropical islands, I imagine lush jungles and exotic birds.
I ache to be somewhere else. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s just the summertime making me antsy but I am overwhelmed by a desire to go somewhere else. I haven’t strayed more than 30 minutes away from home in well over a year and it’s driving me mad. A plethora of obligations and a dearth of funds keep me in place, perhaps for the better. The next time I see the coast I might just stay there!