Warm Summer Nights, Grill Smoke, and Soft Conversation

The weather has finally finished the incredible fluctuation it began when the 7-month winter finally ended in early May. The massive heatwave, followed by weather that would have been “seasonable” back in late March or early April has finally settled into the 50s to 70s range that is common to May and early June. I miss the protracted cool period of spring rain storms that used to gradually give way to heat and summer thunderstorms, but I’ll take stable weather if I can get it at this point. Anything is better than this fluctuation that is murdering my joints and aggravating my sinuses. The poor things are already suffering because an entire spring’s worth of tree pollenation has been crammed into the past few weeks to the point that I can’t even go on a walk without feeling out of breath and developing a headache from the sinus pressure.

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I Wear Shorts To Spite The Weather

I used to be one of the people who wore shorts even during the depths of winter. I’m not sure how it is in other parts of the world, but in the Midwest of the US, it is fairly common to see such folk, frequently masculine in appearance (but not limited to that by any means) trudging through blizzards and all but the worst wind chills. It always made sense to me, given that I spent most of the winter indoors, in buildings with their heat set for people who needed a higher external temperature to be comfortable. I didn’t want to attempt to change the ambient temperature for my comfort alone, so I started wearing shorts and upperbody layers that were easy to remove (zippered hoodies, mostly) so that I could be comfortable. It wasn’t that I was immune to the cold outside, just that I was willing to endure a few minutes of being uncomfortable in order to spend two hours in class or at work without needing to fight off sweat or the sleepies.

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Wrapped In A Warm Blanket

Today was one of my favorite kind of days.

Snow is falling, gently drifting to the ground like a curtain of white flakes. There is a light breeze, not quite constant but steady enough that the snow seems to drift in only one direction. It is cold, but the thermometer proclaims it is just above freezing in the same breath that the wind declares it is just below it. There is no sun, but it is still bright out despite the thick haze of falling snowflakes as every bit of light is reflected by every surface. This is a wet snow, after all, hanging at the precipice of melting while the sun is hidden behind the clouds, so it blankets everything.

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