Monday Musings - 39

Summer is here. You would think the season of wretchedness would pause ever-so-slightly before it pervades our lives. But, there it is! A gust of hot wind blowing through our barely breathing trousers, up our yellow summer shirts and through our balcony doors. Covering us all in a layer of thick dust. You clean, and clean again - the dust remains. Even in the street, the dust dances upon our feet bringing its way plastic, and wrappers and other mementos people have decided to let blow with the wind.

Come gently, summer, I say. But, no one listens. The sun beats down, sweat trickles under and throats dry up as do wells of once water. What can soothe our parched throats? Lemon and water or an iced mango milkshake or just a glass of iced-cold water? Make that half a litre. What can cool our scalded bodies? Cold showers, or a swim or ice in the shower. Make that all of three.

What can clear our hot heads? Reruns of How I Met Your Mother and books that are light like the wind? Summer isn't for heavy bursts of philosophy, is it? Like its clothes, and like the food, and like the cold water carousing our soul - summer is for little thoughts that flit about and stay. Summer is for reckless love. And, Summer is for holiday hope. When can we kick up the sun for a cool blanket of stars? And, a dip in the sea? Time is for planning that Summer Holiday.

And so, I do so much of what I have said. I stay indoors. I potter about the house, and slip in and out of a summer slumber. Waking up to read, and watch and re-read a chain of mails from everyone back home planning their Summer Holiday. It leaves me breathless and waiting and ready to take on Monday.

That said, I must think of somewhere to go. Anywhere North, anybody?

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