This evening when the sun set behind our building I turned of the A/C unit and opened the glass door, expecting to feel the cool rush of wind from outside. There WAS a rush, but it was hot hot hot.
(image found here.)
It reminded me of when I was a kid, and the hot summer winds would sometimes blow through northern California. For an instant I was four feet tall with dirty bare feet and long stringy hair, smelling the dust stuck in the screen door and watching the trees blow out on the ranch. In the next I was a gangly thirteen year old, still with dirty bare feet and stringy hair, watching Mom pull weeds in the garden and listening to the chickens settling in the coop; the smell of hot pine needles permeating the air. (oh, how I miss the smell of pine in the air!)
I picked up the baby and stood by our balcony, swaying back and forth and reveling in the memories that kept washing over me each time a new breeze would blow by. It made my night, my week, put peace in my heart.
I needed some there.