December 22, 2010 § Leave a comment
This is a confession that would make most ‘green’ people throw rocks at me, but I love waking up wrapped against the frigid chill of air conditioning while shards of the summer morning struggle to catch me through a shuttered window. Sometimes we set it to 21 degrees rather than the recommended 24 and I’m not even sorry.
By 3pm another storm cell had tossed us some showers as it slipped past us on it’s voyage out to sea. Hoping to see something surprising, I pulled out my umbrella and took a walk around the garden. Steam rose off the driveway in ghostly contours as the rain cooled the hot gravel and the garden breathed a heavy sweetness into the humidity. A smug little beetle had ravaged the only ripe fruit on the cherry guava tree. I know it was him because he was sitting next to it trying not to look guilty. I cursed the day that beetle was born. Hatched. Whatever.