This Morning

This morning, shortly after waking up, I went outside. The sky was wispy with gray clouds and I felt a cool easterly. Something about the angle of the sun, the color of the sky, and the flavor of the breeze combined to say "Autumn is finally here."

I say "finally" because I live in Florida. Every summer as the thermometer rises, I go outside in my shorts and say "This ain't so bad," determined to not let it get to me. I power on through those sluggish, moist weeks, convinced that if I can just be optimistic enough, the temperature won't matter.

But it does matter. Optimism is fine in June, but by August I am sick of the heat. I hide in my domicile, ceiling fan whirring overhead, staring out at the bleached, foreboding terrain, worried I may be called outside to do something or that the unthinkable will happen and the A/C will break down. You see, Floridians aren't afraid of hurricanes because they may hurt us. No, we're terrified of losing power for two weeks in August, a common occurrence after a bad blow. So many power lines will get knocked down, so many transformers blown up in green technicolor fury, that we must employ outsiders to fix it all. You can always tell when a big one's hit because the interstates are suddenly clogged by caravans of out-of-state electrical trucks. I don't care if they are collecting overtime; those men are saints.

This year, the weather has had the opposite effect. We've had a number of near-misses, which aside from refilling the aquifer, has also given us the boon of overcast, almost-cool days at the end of summer. And Florida is perpetually worried about drought, so it's nice to complain about flooding for a change. It's funny how hurricanes, so terrible when they strike directly, can be so beneficial when they graze you.

Looking up now, I see very little to worry about in the months ahead. The sun will ease down into the southern sky, becoming more laid back, less harsh. Most of our clouds will blow away and leave a pale blue sky, clear and clean-looking, a contemplation of the infinite.