Heat

Morning dawns hot, humid, my skin is sticky and I lay on top of the sheets to keep cool. Outside it is completely still; even the leaves can’t bear to move in this heat.

I pour a coffee and head to work. The dog walkers have already gone by – they are early today, or maybe I’m late. The walk to the bus is quiet, even the birds are silent – saving energy or hiding from the looming storm? The clouds are low – tree branches seem to reach into them and caress their soft bellies. The man on the radio talked about thunderstorms…feels about right. The air is gravid and stiff and I can almost feel it parting for me as I wade through. It closes behind me, filling the empty space I leave in my wake.

A breeze escapes from somewhere, twirls a few leaves on trees, playfully tosses a lock of my hair before dissipating into the heaviness, a short life, but productive in its passing. My bus sounds laboured – similar to the wheezing heard in -30 when engines refuse to work. It doesn’t like this heat but toils on regardless.

It is not yet 7:00 a.m. and already I feel tiny beads of sweat collecting at the small of my back. I look forward to the shiver as they combine and roll down my skin, cooling me every so slightly despite the warm temperature. The day is sensual in nature, and although the air-conditioned office will be welcome, a part of me is reluctant to pull itself from the sultry grasp of these few hours after dawn.

In heat we all move slowly, languidly, taking our time, like lovers exploring each other for the first time, tentative, yet passionate. Even at the end of the day, undressing unhurriedly pulling my shirt over my head, I delight in the feeling of the air beginning to move on my damp skin.
A cold beer hisses and the condensation makes it slippery to hold. I take a long pull and reflect.

Day one of the heat wave is nearly over. By the end of the week, tempers will be flying and people will be snapping at each other – they can’t stand to be out of control. So I savour this first day, because it is new, because the leaves haven’t yet begun to droop, and the sidewalks still get cool at night. I can still sleep with my windows open, soothed into slumber by the sounds of the night cooling off; distant traffic, the odd rustle of the leaves in the trees and the gentle hum of air-conditioners next door. Accepting what you can’t control is the trick to getting through each day.