Summertime

So I write this at 9:30 pm. The temperature in the room is 30 degrees with 75% humidity. Summer is really here in Okinawa. The temperature essentially does not change- it hovers around 30 degrees day and night.

9:45 Yomitan. Callin' out around the world, are you ready for a brand new beat? Summer's here and the time is right for dancin' in the street. Dancin' in Chicago (dancin' in the street) Down in New Orleans (dancin' in the street) In New York City

At night I leave all the windows open but with insect screens carefully drawn to prevent huge, horribly bejewelled, bugs flying in during the night to perch on my cheek. Not to mention the mosquito.  A breeze wafts through the flat, keeping it reasonably cool, er, sort of.    I refuse to close all windows and switch on air conditioning.   I sleep on the futon without any cover to wake up with the dawn at 5:15 to a cacophony of cicadas. Then I get up. Very different from my european  mornings.

The sea is warm. I dive sans wet suit. My garden dries out very quickly and huge butterflies that look like kleenex with green spots flop around in a non free will existence. You have to watch the garbage as it stinks about 3 minutes after you put anything in it. You get into the car and by the time the AC kicks in you are drenched in sweat and your light blue shirt is now purple.  The heat is a physical entity that has to be taken into account in planning. Walk over there? Hmmm, probably not ‘cos it is too hot. Bike ride? – no way, too hot.

Hot town, summer in the city
Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty
Been down, isn’t it a pity
Doesn’t seem to be a shadow in the city

All around, people looking half dead
Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head

A far cry from Loch Awe.

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One Response to Summertime

  1. Mike Taylor says:

    “The heat was hot and the ground was dry” but no Toto this was not Kansas though it was America, and “the air was full of sound” well, cicadas anyway.

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