25 August 2014


The emptiness of summer nights has passed. Limp trees that hang in silence when once the sun has set. Air thick, sky clear, even in the dark. Weary, sluggish cool that drags its feet toward yet another angry sunrise; yet another blistering attack.

Day in, day out, the withering heat that wilts green and leeches streams to cracked and lifeless mud. Night in, night out, the breeze stifled of breath, the asphalt airing out under the vigilant sprinklers' relief efforts.

And no change. Just the same tomorrow. The world at night takes slow, painstaking breaths before the next onslaught. Like clockwork. Tomorrow. And tomorrow again. A nonstop cycle of monotony. Sweat. Draining heat. Rigor. Stasis. The world is comatose.

But not forever. Thank goodness it is not forever.

Lately skies rolling with clouds. Their fingers shoot out white hot and gnarled against the black of night. A roar of forces as they collide with the heat waves. And rain. Cold, prickly-wet and falling thick. Each drop releases sweet scents as a pin pops a bubble.

The night falls faster; the earth cools more quickly. A drop in mercury. A raise of the skies. A dawn-dusting of snow along the peaks. A thinning of the air. The trees begin to straighten under the lightened load. And breathe again. And with their breath the sweetness in the air. No longer the dead-dust stench of summer. Not yet the wet-sap sweet of fallen leaves.

But closer. Ever closer. Day in, day out. A little at a time. So little. Precious little. Some days we see more progress. Other days the summer doldrums rear in defiance.

But the summer stasis is arrested. Once again. A comforting thought. With it the breath comes longer, more relaxed. The shoulders loosen their knots. And once again I sit and listen to the crickets in the dark. And smile. Because I listen to not just the crickets, as on other empty summer nights.

The wind is back.

I listen to the promise of change in the air. The trees and grass stir to bid it welcome once again. I smile because I need not wait for one grand resurrection, one ultimate restoration still so far off. No, not tonight. Life is full of stasis, rigor and reasonlessness. But also of small resurrections, restorations and revivals. And, if not now, the hope for them at least.

How fast the world can change when once the wind picks up.

Tonight I believe it.

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