Source: themetapicture
Tag: hot
And then at some point late, late, late at night, say just a bit before dawn…
And then one student said that happiness is what happens when you go to bed on the hottest night of the summer, a night so hot you can’t even wear a tee-shirt and you sleep on top of the sheets instead of under them, although try to sleep is probably more accurate. And then at some point late, late, late at night, say just a bit before dawn, the heat finally breaks and the night turns into cool and when you briefly wake up, you notice that you’re almost chilly, and in your groggy, half-consciousness, you reach over and pull the sheet around you and just that flimsy sheet makes it warm enough and you drift back off into a deep sleep. And it’s that reaching, that gesture, that reflex we have to pull what’s warm – whether it’s something or someone – toward us, that feeling we get when we do that, that feeling of being safe in the world and ready for sleep, that’s happiness.
– Paul Schmidtberger, Design Flaws of the Human Condition
Source: Quote – Petrichour. Artwork: the most important° by Kerstin Kuntze
90° F, and simmering. That in earth, on leaf, in air, seethed.
Around us in our shade and hush
Roared summer’s fierce fecundity,
And the sun struck down,
In blare and dazzle, on the myth of the world, but we
Safe in the bourne of distance and shade,
Sat so silent that, from woods coming down
To the whitewashed fence but yards behind me,
I heard the secret murmur and hum
That in earth, on leaf, in air, seethed.
~ Robert Penn Warren, from “Safe in Shade,” Being Here: Poems 1977-1980
Credits:
- Photo: Derek C. – Heat Wave
- Poem: Memory Landscape
Today’s Forecast
Source: Birthe Piontek via This Isn’t Happiness. Piontek is a fine art photographer based in Vancouver BC, Canada. Originally from Germany, she moved to Canada in 2005 after receiving her MFA from the University of Essen in Communication Design and Photography.
Truth
It was one of those humid days
when the atmosphere gets confused.
Sitting on the porch, you could feel it:
the air wishing it was water.
~ Jeffrey Eugenides, Middlesex
Image: Richard Clarkson