I took these photos two weeks ago when it was so hot I could hardly stand to exhale. C’était la canicule. A heat wave rolled through our little piece of earth, bringing real summer for the first time this season. On this particularly hot day, I moped listlessly around the apartment, feigning responsibility in the form of half-hearted housework. Even the meagre breeze from the garden below seemed to come to a halting stop just outside our open windows. This is life without air conditioning, people. I stood at the window, sweat drops perched perpetually on my upper lip, tank top and shorts rolled in every direction possible, pathetically waiting for the little wisps of air to pass the surface of my skin.

My photos are a little over exposed, but then again, so were we.

Now, weeks later, fall is respectfully reminding us of its inevitability with crisp mornings and shorter evenings. The relief is welcome, naturally, but I must say, I sort of loved the unrelenting heat. In it, there is a certain respect for the natural order of things.

In my former life as an American urban dweller, for example, I never had the pleasure of experiencing rain as benediction. Even in the extreme heat of Texas and DC, readily available air conditioning provided enough relief to allow momentary forgetfulness. Life without air conditioning is a new thing entirely for me. Each night during the heat wave, it seemed that the atmosphere would reach a point where even it could no longer sustain the weight. The sky would open up and rain, blessed longed-for rain, would descend on the garden. The cool and the smell of life would waft through our open windows bringing not just reprieve but reminders of just how exhilarating it is to be human. Frail and finite, but alive. Some experiences evade my amateur skills of description. All I can say is that it was good. Very good.

We spent these evenings, languid and happy, looking for grace in glasses of lemon water, waiting for mercy in thunderstorms.

Summer, you will be missed.