This morning I did over 12km and it was in the high 70s with a breeze and oh it
was nearly cool and the wind dried my sweat and oh. Oh. Oh.
I even
drove to work with the top down, though that might have worked better had I not
attempted lowering it while stopped at a traffic light, resulting in my getting on
the freeway with it not totally locked down. Oops. I was able to push it into
place without veering out of my lane, though.
Seventy-eight degrees
at 5AM may not spell "fall" to most people, but I'll take it until I can get a
better facsimile. (Actually, the depths of our winters would make lovely fall
weather for many places.) There is something wonderful about weather that actually
makes you do something energetic to sweat, as opposed to our summer heat which
makes you into a dripping mess the second you step outside.
In March
1989, right after college I moved to Houston. In December 1995 I moved to Phoenix
and I've been here ever since. That means I've spent fourteen years in hot
climates and I have come to hate hot weather with a passion. It's a pity, because
though I didn't like Houston much, I do like living in Phoenix otherwise. Then
again, without the heat everyone would move to Phoenix and we'd turn into LA, our
greatest collective fear. Also, I'm quite fond of my husband and he likes it here.
He's not crazy about the heat either, but it doesn't bother him as much as it does
me. He's willing to move eventually, but there always seems to be some reason for
"eventually" not to turn into "now".
Meanwhile I read
href="http://www.marissalingen.com">M'ris's paeans to Minnesota seasons and
SWooP's accounts of New England's short hot spells, spectacular (though tourist-
infested) falls and long cold winters and whimper longingly. Some day...