I have been walking the lake early each morning before the sun rises, while the street lamps are still lit. The past few mornings have felt overwhelmingly balmy, and I was beginning to think I lost a bit of my punch. However, I found this morning that the humidity broke; I could breathe and move and felt just exuberant. I’m so thankful for yesterday afternoon’s heavy rainfall.
The humidity did remind me of a few summers spent in Puerto Rico when I was very young. You step off the plane and the wetness kind of envelops you. I can remember the air being so thick, and warm, and loving. I think I remember it as loving because I knew I would see my Abuelo and Abuelita and my cousins and aunts and uncles, and just sort of formed a real physical connection between feeling and place.
At my grandparent’s house, I would pet the neighborhood dogs and watch my cousin and brother hollow out gourds that they found in the backyard. Sometimes I got to snack on Quenepas; I loved their silky flesh. Google says they taste like “sweet lime and roses”. It has been such a while since I have eaten one, but I do remember a bit of sourness, such as you would taste while eating a lime.
Still, my body delights in cooler, crisper air. Maybe that’s why I have always liked rain — it signals a break in the thick stagnancy. Of course, I love it because it is beautiful and evocative, as well.
OK — it’s still early and I want to start cooking breakfast for my family before they all wake up and start desperately foraging for food.
There’s still so much I’d like to write about — Puerto Rico, walking into sunrises, Mary Oliver — but it will have to wait.
Enjoy your weekend,