(no subject)
Tuesday, July 18th, 2006 12:04 amHere in the Metropolitan Washington region this week, the weather is coming straight from Hell and the atmosphere is a thick, ugly sludge that wants to suffocate us all. On the plus side, bus rides are free tomorrow (at least in the MD and VA suburbs).
In other news... wait, forget other news, it'll only depress you. Well, except for the news that pollution can be good for something: "EVERY cloud has a silver lining. A contaminated lake designated hazardous is turning out to be a source of novel chemicals that could help fight migraines and cancer."
So today, after wasting time here in the un-air-conditioned house long enough to develop various signs of personal impending doom (headache, dizziness, nausea, the desire to watch daytime TV), I finally dragged myself into the sunshine long enough to get myself to the library where I could relax, read magazines, and quietly freeze to death. I could stay in the climate-controlled building for only so long (about an hour) before I had to go back out into the burning world to thaw out, so the several hours I spent enjoying the A/C in the library & other buildings were combined with several miles of walking. It could almost average out to a happy medium.
One of the places I walked was a wooded path I must not have visited since the storms earlier in the month. On the streets closer to home, I'd seen a big tree or two leaning on a building, but most of the trees have been chopped up into manageable pieces before I've gotten to them. On and near the path today, huge trees were lying uprooted. People keep saying that we had something like a 300-year storm, but you might forget what that means till you've seen a bunch of 100- or 200-year-old trees scattered helplessly on the ground.
Smaller plants seem to be loving this weather, though. I stopped for a while to watch bumblebees and tiger swallowtails feasting in a garden planted with healthy, meticulously-arranged wildflowers. Also watched for a good long while when I passed by the pond with the Canada geese. The goslings are still considerably smaller than their parents, but their colors now are very much like those the adults wear.
Midnight now and I am turning into a pumpkin. Here's hoping the bedroom cools off enough and I don't wake up to discover that I've become a baked squash.
In other news... wait, forget other news, it'll only depress you. Well, except for the news that pollution can be good for something: "EVERY cloud has a silver lining. A contaminated lake designated hazardous is turning out to be a source of novel chemicals that could help fight migraines and cancer."
So today, after wasting time here in the un-air-conditioned house long enough to develop various signs of personal impending doom (headache, dizziness, nausea, the desire to watch daytime TV), I finally dragged myself into the sunshine long enough to get myself to the library where I could relax, read magazines, and quietly freeze to death. I could stay in the climate-controlled building for only so long (about an hour) before I had to go back out into the burning world to thaw out, so the several hours I spent enjoying the A/C in the library & other buildings were combined with several miles of walking. It could almost average out to a happy medium.
One of the places I walked was a wooded path I must not have visited since the storms earlier in the month. On the streets closer to home, I'd seen a big tree or two leaning on a building, but most of the trees have been chopped up into manageable pieces before I've gotten to them. On and near the path today, huge trees were lying uprooted. People keep saying that we had something like a 300-year storm, but you might forget what that means till you've seen a bunch of 100- or 200-year-old trees scattered helplessly on the ground.
Smaller plants seem to be loving this weather, though. I stopped for a while to watch bumblebees and tiger swallowtails feasting in a garden planted with healthy, meticulously-arranged wildflowers. Also watched for a good long while when I passed by the pond with the Canada geese. The goslings are still considerably smaller than their parents, but their colors now are very much like those the adults wear.
Midnight now and I am turning into a pumpkin. Here's hoping the bedroom cools off enough and I don't wake up to discover that I've become a baked squash.