Here I wake up, shaking off the last remnants of a weekend coma much like a wet animal and try to get over the busy last two days I had to endure in the name of a weekend.
Last I remembered this was still supposedly summer, though for the past week I've not had any reason to turn on air conditioner or turn up the fan.
The weather is clement, to say the least, and reminds me of that time in spring when winter had receded to an almost oblivion grappling on to the last threads of seasonal change resulting in pleasantly strong winds with a cool disposition and mild sunshine that refused to let anyone sweat or tire.
The kind of serotinal sun kiss that promises all the vitamin D but none of the burn.
I don't remember the ends of August ever getting so deliciously pleasant; in fact, if anything Augusts have always been a good deal torturous oozing their heat laden humidity pretty much into the first few weeks of September. It was always towards the end of September that the weather took a sudden turn for the cold and I love that currently that sudden sharp turn has softened to an easy bend.
Did I mention how I absolutely love this temperate weather? There's something to be said about billowing curtains filling up a house in their soft fabric of gauzy balloons that only ever happens when the windows are left open and the wind has turned up a notch swaying everything it beholds.
A sort of silky light stays inside of the house, almost fluffy with soft rays of malleable brightness which doesn't sting with the humid venom of sweaty resentment.
The kitchen is no longer a nightmare and for that, I am immoderately thankful.
Last I remembered this was still supposedly summer, though for the past week I've not had any reason to turn on air conditioner or turn up the fan.
The weather is clement, to say the least, and reminds me of that time in spring when winter had receded to an almost oblivion grappling on to the last threads of seasonal change resulting in pleasantly strong winds with a cool disposition and mild sunshine that refused to let anyone sweat or tire.
The kind of serotinal sun kiss that promises all the vitamin D but none of the burn.
I don't remember the ends of August ever getting so deliciously pleasant; in fact, if anything Augusts have always been a good deal torturous oozing their heat laden humidity pretty much into the first few weeks of September. It was always towards the end of September that the weather took a sudden turn for the cold and I love that currently that sudden sharp turn has softened to an easy bend.
Did I mention how I absolutely love this temperate weather? There's something to be said about billowing curtains filling up a house in their soft fabric of gauzy balloons that only ever happens when the windows are left open and the wind has turned up a notch swaying everything it beholds.
A sort of silky light stays inside of the house, almost fluffy with soft rays of malleable brightness which doesn't sting with the humid venom of sweaty resentment.
The kitchen is no longer a nightmare and for that, I am immoderately thankful.
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