We toast the first day of summer with a sparkling wine from the Doffo vineyards in Temecula. One can taste the layers; not too sweet, not too dry. Chilled and crisp the wine contrasts with how summer begins.
Hot, dry and smoky the past weekend blew smoke from the Hathaway fire up the canyon into our valley. Turning on the swamp cooler made it smell like somebody was barbequing in the kitchen. As I type the temperature has dropped to the mid-seventies. It is to hot to sleep without the cooler on.
At least the sheets don’t stick to you. I spent a summer in Chicago. The humidity was high. It took me many nights of practice to perfect the placement of the fan. I remember, vaguely, that having the air blow into the room from outside was better than the opposite. Some nights the rain would move across the lake dropping the temperature as it rolled. You’d feel it as the fan blew now cold air into the room. Sleep moved into a deeper phase. The rain came and the air smelled cold, crisp and clean.
There will be days in July and August that the sheets will stick. In Arizona it’s time for the monsoons. They’re not really monsoons here. A thunder shower is mostly what happens. The change in air temperature and air quality isn’t as dramatic as in Chicago. Sleep comes sometime. Deep sleep stays at bay. The swamp cooler, perfect modifier of the environment is useless.
We toast the summer. The long days and the comfortable nights. We wait for the thunder showers. A good storm is amazing all lightning and pelting rain. Then it’s over; bullet marks in the sand the only evidence it ever happened. Summer can feel like that too. July is almost here. Where did June go?