Some Art

 I have been sequestered, firstly because of covid, and now the weather, and general malaise.  I have been reading a lot - someone here bought me about 5 very large books - about 800 pages each, the first being The Seven Sisters.  She insisted I have missed out by not having read them - worse even, I had never heard of them. Until I became ill they took up space on my bookshelf unopened. One of my days in isolation I leafed through the first one. Having nothing else to do, or to read, I began reading. Hmm, I thought, as I read - predictable, contrived, artificial, and I continued reading despite my severe criticism. I am now on the fourth book, and totally engrossed.  

I had also reserved The Covenant of Water on Libby - as an audible book.  A note informed me I had a 21 week late.  3 days later I received a text that the book is ready. So while I listen to this book I began to try watercolours - a medium I find very difficult.  Also some sketching with graphite.

Here are the fruit of my labours:

Dog Days

 Is the "Dog Days of summer" an American expression.  Is there, in fact, such an expression?  It came to my mind this afternoon when I opened the glass sliding door to my patio to look at a new plant I put in this morning.  The sliding door and all the windows are closed. The air conditioning is on. My outdoor bumble bee thermometer registers 100 fahrenheit. That is about 34 degrees centigrade.  Outside the late afternoon air is hot - it feels like stepping into a bowl of hot soup. It wraps itself around you clinging to one like a veil.  If I am out for longer than 5 minutes sweats drips into my eyes and onto my clothing.

I never did like the Israeli summer, but at least when I lived on the kibbutz and in Jerusalem it was a dry heat.  An oven that was not sticky.  In the long ago days of kibbutz life there was no air conditioning.  Electric fans were placed in strategic positions, dark shutters were pulled tight in the morning and only opened again in the evening.  We didn't have refrigerators either.  I would go to the dining room, foam jerry can in hand, and fill it up with soda water that came out of the middle tap in the kitchen. That was a refreshing blessing.  Every evening a breeze would sigh through the cypress trees and we spread out cotton blankets on the grass and sat outside.  But there was no humidity, and that was fine.

Jerusalem evenings even required a shawl or light sweater. Another blessing. 

Of course this was long long ago. Long before one heard mention of global warming, or climate change, or tipping point, or HEAT LOAD, or wind chill.  I might even say "the good old days."

I thrived in the fog and chill of the bay area - I have mentioned this ad nauseum.

All to say is that I am NOT thriving now.  The quality of the heat has changed, as has the quality of the rain on those rare occasions that it rains. The weather report here states for example, 35 degrees with an increased heat load.  I am not sure what this means other than that it is absolutely unbearable.  Some days when there is no heat load it almost feels pleasant at 35 degrees!

My brother lives in rural New Hampshire amidst beautiful trees near a lovely lake.  They had a tornado last week and all the beautiful trees are gone. Thank goodness at least their home was spared.  

 So along with all my other concerns about the ever worsening political situation is an all pervasive overriding anxiety of climate panic.   I know I am not alone in this, but that does not help  particularly.   What have we done to our beautiful planet?