Passionate thoughts about the world of writing and the Power of God
Summertime. Can't beat it. Summer evenings . . . silky, soft, sensuous, soothing, and sacred.
Father, thank you for the seasons, each with their own beauty and mystery. Thanks for future perfection and please forgive us for ruining the experience in the Garden. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
Here in Arizona, I’m anxiously looking forward to the end of summer. Not because of the heat. I don’t mind the heat–bring it on. But in July and August here it is verrrrry humid. Oh, not with the percentages of humidity that people deal with back east (I don’t miss that one bit) but humid enough.
I miss my dry heat. I don’t like stepping out the door and being instantly wet. YUCK!
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When you’re used to dry heat, that humidity does you in for sure. The one time I enjoyed the humid heat was when we had to travel to Texas (south of Houston) for a funeral. It felt like a sauna outside in September, and I just sat out in it, actually enjoying the wet heat. Up here in Washington if it gets hot and rain’s coming in, the humidity is sapping.
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Such beauty, Nicole!
Summers are pretty, but give me fall or winter any day. The heat does not like me!
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A lot of people who live in Seattle are with you in the weather department, Bren. I’ve enjoyed the summer heat the older I’ve gotten. (For the most part, our heat isn’t filled with humidity, except when the summer rains are coming.) It’s not desert heat on this side of the mountains – eastern Washington gets the desert heat.
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Into the Fire 
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