All day there's been a subtly oppressive heat forming; my cells know I am imprisoned long before I am conscious of the closing in of that dreaded warm sickly breathlessness.
there is no moving air.
The news says we're in for a new heat wave, but insist that won't be as bad at night than the one a few weeks ago, itself bringing memories of those nights as a child when a sheet over my thighs was akin to torture. Of course that's one good reason i moved out west.
I love thunder storms, the wind, bent trees, ocean air, breezes and the warm and cold parts of a river. I like it when the earth exhales.