We get precious little real heat in Anchorage. As a child from the desert, I sometimes miss it. So I was pleased when, on a recent hike through Arizona's dirt, rock, and cactus, the sun finally broke free from the dull gray clouds, typical perhaps of Seattle but out of place here, and started to beat down with the full intensity of noon. I performed a little ritual of sun-worship, at least in my mind, that involved small offerings of blood and sweat, and the deep drinking of sunshine through every exposed pore. C, meanwhile, is a child of the subarctic. While I, energized, surged, she flushed and felt faint. Somehow we both forget that, on these occasional trips to the desert, C flirts with death with each step whenever we leave the shade.
But it all worked out. We made it back to the rental car and its air conditioning, and before long we were wondering when we could do it again.
Its been awful quiet around here lately. Things should pick up starting in July.