This could be it: the hottest day of the year. It will flirt with a hundred this afternoon. My dog is panting as if she’s been for a long run, just sitting still, and my computer’s fan is telling me I had best clean dust from the innards or it will cook. It’s really too hot to do much of anything, but I thought I’d share a quick thought that went flickering across my overheated brains.
Some I know can experience a sort of letdown as the heart of summer passes. They adopt a sort of, “Well, it’s all downhill from here” attitude, and sulk like a spoiled child who has opened the hundredth and last present on Christmas. “Is this all there is?”
Actually, even if one had a task as boring and repetitive as Sisyphus’s task of eternally rolling a boulder up a hill only to see it roll back down, one would have the childish pleasure of watching the big stone go bounding back down. Fact of the matter is, I’ve watched kids kill an afternoon doing something very similar.
Also, for our ancestors the summer was hard work. Farmers took no vacations, because weeds don’t take vacations, and the milking must be done. The end of summer was, however, the reward. Then you got the harvest; then you got to feast; then it was party time.
And then of course you had to start all over and do it again. Like Sisyphus with his boulder, the repetition went on and on; you spent half the time producing the food and half the time consuming it. That’s how life is, until it’s over, and most don’t really want it over, when they think about it.
However this heat wave? We won’t mind it being over, for here is another repetition humans are famous for:
“When it is hot we wish it were not but when it is not we wish it were hot.”