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Smell something? That's summer
A few random thoughts on Day 4 of our early season heat wave.
Go ahead, call me insane. I said it yesterday and I’ll repeat it now: I like this weather.
Last night I drove home with the windows in the car down. Let’s just say I got a few stares from people clearly convinced that I had lost touch with my faculties. Or maybe that I was suffering from some kind of heat-related delusion.
But did you notice something else last night and this morning? Not only could you cut the thick air with a knife, you could actually smell it. It reminded me of that old chlorine smell that used to linger around the community pool. And to me it means only thing: Summer. Of course, this is from a man who admits to liking the smell of skunk. Yeah, I know, I’ve clearly gone over the edge. But I find something strangely reassuring when driving along and suddenly coming upon the familiar, pungent fragrance. Let’s face it, you don’t smell that when it’s 10 degrees out in February.
I didn’t get home last night until fairly late, but yes, I made an immediate beeline for the porch. I threw on a pair of shorts, grabbed a cold one, and entered my private enclave. As soon as I walked out the door, I could feel the vibe, as well as the humidity. Summer had arrived. My definition of summer is if I’m still comfortable out on the screened-in porch at 10 p.m. in shorts and a T-shirt. Last night was no sweat, if you get my drift. It was, in a word, outstanding. The only thing you could hear was the drone of air conditioners.
Finally, there is one bizarre thing I noticed in my travels over the weekend. What exactly would drive a person to stand next to the road holding up a placard announcing a store’s sale in that kind of heat? Did anyone else notice the poor folks doing so where the Route 1 Bypass meets Sproul Road. I almost called the office and sent a reporter out to talk to these poor souls, who spent hours in that grueling Saturday sun.
Of course, this heat wave has to end, and it most likely will do so in a fairly dramatic fashion.
That means thunderstorms and driving rain. For someone who makes a living producing something that is completely computer-dependent, these summer storms are always a fairly hair-raising experience.
Tonight should be interesting. Me? I’ll be on the porch, singing in the rain. Or at least listing to the Phillies game.
Go ahead, call me insane. I said it yesterday and I’ll repeat it now: I like this weather.
Last night I drove home with the windows in the car down. Let’s just say I got a few stares from people clearly convinced that I had lost touch with my faculties. Or maybe that I was suffering from some kind of heat-related delusion.
But did you notice something else last night and this morning? Not only could you cut the thick air with a knife, you could actually smell it. It reminded me of that old chlorine smell that used to linger around the community pool. And to me it means only thing: Summer. Of course, this is from a man who admits to liking the smell of skunk. Yeah, I know, I’ve clearly gone over the edge. But I find something strangely reassuring when driving along and suddenly coming upon the familiar, pungent fragrance. Let’s face it, you don’t smell that when it’s 10 degrees out in February.
I didn’t get home last night until fairly late, but yes, I made an immediate beeline for the porch. I threw on a pair of shorts, grabbed a cold one, and entered my private enclave. As soon as I walked out the door, I could feel the vibe, as well as the humidity. Summer had arrived. My definition of summer is if I’m still comfortable out on the screened-in porch at 10 p.m. in shorts and a T-shirt. Last night was no sweat, if you get my drift. It was, in a word, outstanding. The only thing you could hear was the drone of air conditioners.
Finally, there is one bizarre thing I noticed in my travels over the weekend. What exactly would drive a person to stand next to the road holding up a placard announcing a store’s sale in that kind of heat? Did anyone else notice the poor folks doing so where the Route 1 Bypass meets Sproul Road. I almost called the office and sent a reporter out to talk to these poor souls, who spent hours in that grueling Saturday sun.
Of course, this heat wave has to end, and it most likely will do so in a fairly dramatic fashion.
That means thunderstorms and driving rain. For someone who makes a living producing something that is completely computer-dependent, these summer storms are always a fairly hair-raising experience.
Tonight should be interesting. Me? I’ll be on the porch, singing in the rain. Or at least listing to the Phillies game.
posted by Heron's Nest at
7:18 AM
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