I used to love summer. Summer was - at one time - my favourite season: The warmth of the sun, and the smell of wildflowers. The shimmer of sweat and a cool breeze. I didn't mind the occasional rivulet or the humidity. There was always some shade to cool off in, and humidity is very comforting, like being wrapped up with a blanket. I like blankets. The one year I spent in a dry climate, I felt so naked, without that blanket to keep me swaddled.
Then I moved to Tokushima, where summer begins around 3 April, and lasts until approximately 17 November. After that is autumn, and then spring. If I remember correctly, last year winter was on a Sunday morning.
Summer loses its appeal in such large doses. The humidity I love has betrayed me; it holds a damp blanket over my mouth making it hard to breathe, to move. The comforting sweat has become more than a shimmer, skipping rivulets completely, turning straight into floods, washing my neck ... my back... my legs. It drips from my hair onto the floor, like I’ve just stepped out of the shower.
Even all this is would be endurable, but for one small detail: When I arrive at work, I am supposed to be professional. How am I supposed to look (and smell) clean during such a summer? People take one look at me and think I’ve just had a workout at the gym. Which I suppose, I have, if you count God’s gym called nature.
I am greatly looking forward to summer vacation - not because I want to be off work, but so I can sweat with abandon!