Rising

The first few warm days of the year devour my energy. Windows closed and shades drawn, the house nevertheless heats to a nap-inducing balminess by late afternoon. Outside, the flowers wilt and the grass browns, and cats scurry across hot pavement to reach the shady porch where they, too, nap. Only when the sun is screened by the western pines do I emerge and water the back yard plants.

I wait for sunset before I irrigate the front yard. There's still enough heat to the air to keep me slow and easily distracted. When deeper dusk finally brings enough coolness that I can open the windows, it's like waking from a feverish dream. Summer has barely begun. I'll get used to it in a few days and be more active, but then stronger heat will arrive and I'll slip back into torpor. That's the way it goes, June, July, August. I'll think cool thoughts and anticipate the first chilly days of autumn.