Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Summer


Summer in Los Angeles never seemed that different from any other season. We grilled, gardened, and threw dinner parties under the apricot tree pretty much year-round. Things are different here. I’m learning a new vocabulary of weather and atmosphere that is unfamiliar. I can’t quite do the conversion to Celsius in my head, but I’ve learned that 30 degrees is hot. Mix that with high humidity and it makes for a powerful change from what I’m used to. You have to move more slowly in this weather, otherwise you wind up sticky after 5 minutes. 

In California, there are very few bugs. You might get the occasional mosquito bite or see a few flies but that’s it. There are some big bugs here. We have ants half an inch long in the garden. The other day, Husband chased a wasp around the dining room while Whiny Dog barked and tried to bite the broom. Cat is in heaven chasing bugs and flies and eating what she catches. We learned the hard way why none of our neighbors seem to dine in their backyards after providing the local mosquitoes with a banquet one night last week. Now we’re armed with citronella candles and bug spray and keep to the deck.
Across the street there’s a private tennis club. The days are marked by the constant sound of balls against racquets from early morning until late at night. The members dress in all white, and they look quaint and clean in the middle of all this heat. And at night, the music from the clubhouse drifts across the road.
There’s both drama and languor to this kind of summer. The air is heavy and damp. It stays light late and we sit on the deck with the dogs and listen to cicadas. There are frequent thunderstorms that break the heat. I joked the other day that if I were drunk, I’d feel like I was in a Tennessee Williams play.

It’s early morning now and already hot. The air is heavy, the sky is dark, and I’m waiting for thunder and lightning. Cat is sitting in the window watching and listening. I’ve decided today will be a day when I don’t do much but drink cold things and move slowly.



3 comments:

  1. I know the heavy, buggy feeling well. Eating/sitting out always *sounds* good...

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  2. We're planning on relocating to Vermont in about two years and I imagine it is much the same (I do a lot of imagining about Vermont, actually...kind of a second career).

    I never did imagine that area of the world as Williamsesque, though. Interesting to think about.

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  3. Hi Natasha,
    I guess the combination of humidity, balconies, and metal stairs in Montreal reminds me of Williams...in a good way.

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