Sunday, June 12, 2011

Days of Vines and Dozes

I could go on and on about the humid heat, its visible shimmer, its weight, even the taste of it,  but it would be much too energetic an enterprise. Best to just take five showers a day, drink lots of water along with other cooling beverages, and watch in semi-stunned amazement the jungle growth occurring at every level on Culebra, with clippers at hand to keep my feet from getting entangled. 

Yesterday the sky was rumbling with far off thunder. The sun still lit the sky out of one window, while out on the bay it was getting darker. Thunder rolled close and louder. Good, rain was coming. It must be a good sized storm, I thought. But the radar showed only one tiny blob, a red blob but tiny, moving slowly toward Culebra. From the bottom of the yard, I could see the rain moving in, even as a faint rainbow stained the sky. It rained.

Storm racing in color
Seasons in the Caribbean can be told by the sky as well as any other place. Though to a random visitor it is Perfection Blue or Dreary Grey, Caribbean Cloudy or Stunning Sunset, to us who live here it is all of those with seasonal names attached. Except for Hazy Headache, that's not on the brochures. In the summer the sky just isn't quite clear to me, as if I was seeing it from under water or through a gauzy curtain. But that's just me. I'm sure.

Here are some other ways summer looked a day or so ago.

Dawn water
In another bay of color cuts
Early sun
Culebra Blue Ridge
A plane flying with still propellers (that only happens in summer)

Have an un-sticky Sunday. Do something sociable.

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