I’m pretty sure it has not stopped raining in Texas since Sunshine gave me that rain stick a couple Christmases ago.
For the last week, the air here in North Central Texas has been so thick and heavy it feels like a weight on my shoulders. I inhale and my lungs fill with moisture. The concrete in the carport area glistens with a sheen of moisture. Our clothes come out of the closet dry in the morning; in the evening when we put them in the laundry basket, they are drenched with sweat. I sit on the couch to take a break and breathe, and the cushions are damp when I get back up. My skin stays sticky with the salt from my sweat. If the humidity climbed much higher we’d be calling it fog, or maybe even low-lying clouds.
There has been a constant southerly wind, which has helped it feel less oppressive–but only marginally. Thanks to the humidity, the breeze does nothing to evaporate the sweat off our bodies. Occasionally, the wind picks up, and branches fall from the trees. The incessant rustling of the wind in the leaves is my constant companion as I make my way through my days.
The sun rarely peeks through the cloud cover, and yet the temperatures have been hovering in the mid 80s. I look out the windows of my magic bus and the sky looks no different than winter–low, grey, dark. There is a pervasive ominous feeling, a sense of foreboding. The skies are so dim that I need the lights on whenever I’m inside during the day. It’s starting to affect my mood. It’s a topsy turvy world when I’m feeling a touch of Seasonal Affective Disorder in the middle of May.
It’s said that a La Nina pattern is forming in the pacific, and that we will be experiencing slightly cooler than average temperatures for the next three months. I’ll take it. I just hope it doesn’t also come with more humidity and cloud cover.