I don't know about you, but this weather is kicking my butt, this constant heat and humidity. I dread traveling back and forth to work in it every day, but there are only 7 days to go. I guess it could be worse. I remember back in my early days in the city when the subways had no air conditioning. All they had was these little fans on the ceiling, and believe me, they did NOTHING to cool it off.
And I know you guys and gals in the mid-west are battling with temperatures up in the 100's,. I don't know how you stand it, and my heart goes out to you. When I heard one area was going to reach 129 degrees the other day, I almost fainted just thinking about it. I pray you have cooler temperatures soon. What a summer we are having!!!
Needless to say, this weather drains everything out of me, including my Muse. This morning my mind is empty and blocked. So rather than boring all of you by rambling on about nothing, I'll leave you with the following poem written by a famous ancestor of mine.
The Night Sea
In the summer even,
While yet the dew was hoar,
I went plucking purple pansies,
Till my love should come to shore.
The fishing-lights their dances
Were keeping out at sea,
And come, I sung, my true love!
Come hasten home to me!
But the sea, it fell a-moaning,
And the white gulls rocked thereon;
And the young moon dropped from heaven,
And the lights hid one by one.
All silently their glances
Slipped down the cruel sea,
And wait! cried the night and wind and storm,--
Wait, till I come to thee!
Harriet Prescott Spofford