Friday, July 22, 2005
Heat Advisory
Today's forecast is exactly what you expect for midsummer in Kentucky: calm wind, scattered thundershowers (40%), high 92. The only thing you can't really put into that forecast is the humidity. Yeah, I know they provide a "heat index"; the index is supposed to be over 100 for today and the next 5 days. Humidity, however, is a force all on its own. Even before you feel hot, you feel the humidity. It can even get you in the shade. This morning it was raining around sunrise. A gentle rain, so light and quiet, you had to step into it to notice. What this means is the breech is loaded. This afternoon, as it warms up, that delightful rain will become the humidity. Steam will rise from the roadways competing with the shimmering heat. The air will be thick, heavy, close. This is classic porch-sitting weather. Weather where you rock in your favorite chair to enjoy the breeze.
I will admit that Kentucky doesn't have an exclusive license on humidity. I visited the Texas Gulf Coast in September. It wasn't the seashore, mind you, where there might be a breeze, but a bit inland, southeast of Houston. With a 95 degree temperature, the humidity there was a tangible and oppressive enemy. Especially with the mosquitos, there was no hope of a respite. It was not something citronella candles, iced tea, or shade could make tolerable. This is the kind of humidity that requires a full retreat to a mechanically filtered and chilled room with a sofa and TV.
Anyway, I wouldn't want to miss these days. They are the essence and taste of summer. These are the days that if the creeks don't rise, I'll try to beat the heat early tomorrow morning by coaxing a few fish to hand while standing waste deep in a shaded pool.
I will admit that Kentucky doesn't have an exclusive license on humidity. I visited the Texas Gulf Coast in September. It wasn't the seashore, mind you, where there might be a breeze, but a bit inland, southeast of Houston. With a 95 degree temperature, the humidity there was a tangible and oppressive enemy. Especially with the mosquitos, there was no hope of a respite. It was not something citronella candles, iced tea, or shade could make tolerable. This is the kind of humidity that requires a full retreat to a mechanically filtered and chilled room with a sofa and TV.
Anyway, I wouldn't want to miss these days. They are the essence and taste of summer. These are the days that if the creeks don't rise, I'll try to beat the heat early tomorrow morning by coaxing a few fish to hand while standing waste deep in a shaded pool.
