It's quite blissful to be all alone here in what my penpal SK calls "a dirty bit of heaven," once one gets over the humidity and embraces its magical dewy powers upon one's skin. After twenty five years in the dry desert air, mine is certainly most appreciative. There is great rumbling in the sky from thunder threatening to roll. For now, it's just grumbling thunder, but there is so much moisture in the air, and it is so very hot, that I anticipate a downpour any minute. I'm not sure if is the rumbling or the flash on my camera that has scared away the little red cardinal on the bird feeder, but I feel my patience has been rewarded. I reached gingerly for my camera when I saw him there but he fixed his gaze on me as I lifted it up to shoot him. Here he is, looking somewhat startled, pompadour and all.
A wise friend points out that it takes maybe a week to wind down from city life. She writes "After the second week I started sleeping about 8 hours. I think it takes that long for the frenetic buzz that I have in the city to die down. For a couple of days I feel slightly logey perhaps even slightly depressed, and then I get through to the other side. I can sit and read for hours." I can feel this heavy cloak beginning to shift.
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