Humid and muggy the weather was weighing everyone down. Sweat was on everyone’s forehead and talk of thunder showers on their lips. DJ’s talked about it between music and bloggers posted about it for a week. People in the lower desert continued to put slash marks on their calendar hoping September would come quickly and with it cooler nights and dryer days. Then in the afternoon you could feel the difference.
A cool breeze appeared out of no place. The sky looked the same. Still the breeze came up cool and dry. People stood up straighter. Old men and women and young men and women skipped down the sidewalks. The suffocating swelter of humidity had given way to something else.
Hope was in the air. Not just hope that tomorrow would be dry. Hope for healing and love, dreaming dreams and having vision. Did this cool breeze carry hallucinogens? How was it that less sweat gave way to hopping and hoping? People nodded to each other and gave high-fives their eyes clear and faces expectant. Shackles were removed and they could sing as they were born to.
The people continued to go about their afternoons almost giddy even as the radios began squawking and alarms sounding. Flash-flood warnings were in effect. Hard rain was coming. The sky was going to fall. Still they danced as the humidity solidified to rain. They went home and opened windows. Hard rain and behind it crisp air blew back into the desert. Someone drew an exclamation point on the calendar. Right next to the hash mark for today. Thirty one days til the end of August.