I hate summer.
With the onset of its equinox boiling in the sky, insects begin to bloom like teeming gardens. From wood, curtains, carpets one wanders through a seething soup of unwelcome life for three unwelcome months.
I hate summer colors. In the sky they are blank and innocuous, with none of the sculptural intensity of clouds, save for the occasional low cirrus ceilings loaded with moisture – so low I could reach up and pull them towards me, trying to shake some sense into them.
On clothes summer colors are loud and foolish. They lack subtlety and wit. Summer clothes lack style – their only objective is to display bodies and limbs made taut through a spring of diet and torture.
I hate summer foods. They are light and lack interest. They are delicate. They labor under the misapprehension that just because one is enduring the inexcusable summer heat, one can only consume edibles whose only advantage is that they are cold and/or simple. Recipes are designed to keep one out of the kitchen – but has no one ever heard of delivery? Some say that ice cream is a summer food – I will say that if you consider ice cream a one-season food, then I can only pity you.
Foods spoil in the heat. Stomachs are in an uproar with flus and viruses – whether for 24 hours or for a week. I should know – I’m just getting over some sort of bug-bout myself.
I hate the summer heat – it builds and builds inside me like a sealed cauldron: a mushroom cloud waiting inside my torso. It sickens my blood. It saddens my heart. I hate the summer heat at night – it makes the darkness fidgety and nervous, like a jungle that is blistered with impatience.
I hate the summer air. It is thick and lifeless. It stuns the flowers and trees, turning their DNA sere and feverish – shocking them into losing their color. The viscous atmosphere smothers all breath and stills the wind. From each of their four corners of the map they turn their faces away, sullen and quiet.
And most of all, I hate summer in Southern California.
Because I know that things are so much worse everywhere else…and so I shouldn’t be complaining at all.