Tension
Heat tension, mostly. It's been over 100 degrees here for the past week. It broke today when the temperature finally dipped down to a cool seventy five degrees on the Palouse and a manageable 95 in the valley. Last night, the air was cool enough that I could leave the window open instead of having to rely on a fan. In the morning, I awoke to a pleasant surprise - my drapes were gently blown inward by a cool breeze from the outside. The peasants rejoiced.
Right now, I'm enjoying another night of open windows and cooler air.
Yet the effects of the heatwave linger on. A massive wildfire erupted at the west end of the valley tonight, on the south side of the Clearwater, on a ridge about a mile from JJ's old apartment. The smoke filled half the sky, as it looked like half of the canyon wall was caught in the blaze. We could hear sirens rushing about in the air as we watched the plume rise. It continued to haunt the air even as the sun went down. I am not even sure if the blaze was controlled. We are not in any direct danger, but others in the city are at risk for losing their homes as of 9:00 p.m. Saturday.
I am glad of the colder air. It makes me think of all the work to be done this semester. All of the questions to be answered. All of the experiments to be executed. All of the students to teach. All of the lessons to be learned. Fall is coming. I am excited.
It has always been easier for me to think in the Fall. For some reason, it is less of a trial for me to sit and do my work quietly when the leaves are turning. I do not know why. My Advisor and I have discussed it before. For some reason, colder air is better for the mental life. Perhaps it has something to do with the cooling of the brain, allowing it to run at hotter temperatures without overheating... or not. We honestly don't know, but we suspect that atmospheric conditions have an impact on the activity of neurotransmitters. Note: we only suspect, and that only out of fancy rather than from empirical inquiry. And by "we", I only mean my Advisor and I.
While Fall brings greater clarity and organization to my mental life, it also stirs a clarity in my passions, my dreams, and my aspirations. All of my lovely little nightmares in the stories and epics I dabble about with in my spare time seem to be more vivid, more truthful, more purposeful when the days begin to darken. Again, I do not know why. Perhaps my dreams live in the Fall, and I only get to visit them in that one season, and am left with nothing but the memory of them as the other seasons roll by. Most vivid in Fall, vivid, but less alive in winter, still clear in spring, but dead and shriveled in the heat of the Summer, when I spend most of my time dabbling in the dreams of others to stay entertained. Neil Gaiman and Matt Groening have been my victims of late, and both have proved to be substantial fare - Gaiman in his novel American Gods (which I urge you all to read) and the Sandman graphic novels, and Groening in the Futurama series.
The thing I hate most about Summer is the aimlessness about it. The heat seems to melt away all sense of direction, all semblance of structure, all sensation of clarity. The whole of the season is given to distraction, which I am the unwilling slave of.
And the distraction only grows worse in the scorching heat, when exhaustion and laziness set in (and often I cannot discern the two).
The only thing Summer is really good for, from what I can discern, is to satisfy one's wanderlust. From the helpings of travel I have received from this and last Summer, I think my thirst for a good romp about the country has been quenched for at least another year. All I want to do right now is buy a hammock and sit in it all day reading articles, writing, and reading the Sandman chronicles. Well, it's mostly that last item, to tell the truth. And watch Cartoon network.
Sadly, as a result of that overwhelming desire, work doesn't always progress as it ought to during the Summer. And when that happens, the few weeks before the first day of classes becomes tense. And I have to live in that tension right now: the tension of walking in the dying heat of the Summer as the disjointed chaos cools in to the regimented order of the Fall.
*Fire Update*
The fire is, as far as I know, out. A large portion of the canyon wall is now black. I do not know if any homes were destroyed or not.
Right now, I'm enjoying another night of open windows and cooler air.
Yet the effects of the heatwave linger on. A massive wildfire erupted at the west end of the valley tonight, on the south side of the Clearwater, on a ridge about a mile from JJ's old apartment. The smoke filled half the sky, as it looked like half of the canyon wall was caught in the blaze. We could hear sirens rushing about in the air as we watched the plume rise. It continued to haunt the air even as the sun went down. I am not even sure if the blaze was controlled. We are not in any direct danger, but others in the city are at risk for losing their homes as of 9:00 p.m. Saturday.
I am glad of the colder air. It makes me think of all the work to be done this semester. All of the questions to be answered. All of the experiments to be executed. All of the students to teach. All of the lessons to be learned. Fall is coming. I am excited.
It has always been easier for me to think in the Fall. For some reason, it is less of a trial for me to sit and do my work quietly when the leaves are turning. I do not know why. My Advisor and I have discussed it before. For some reason, colder air is better for the mental life. Perhaps it has something to do with the cooling of the brain, allowing it to run at hotter temperatures without overheating... or not. We honestly don't know, but we suspect that atmospheric conditions have an impact on the activity of neurotransmitters. Note: we only suspect, and that only out of fancy rather than from empirical inquiry. And by "we", I only mean my Advisor and I.
While Fall brings greater clarity and organization to my mental life, it also stirs a clarity in my passions, my dreams, and my aspirations. All of my lovely little nightmares in the stories and epics I dabble about with in my spare time seem to be more vivid, more truthful, more purposeful when the days begin to darken. Again, I do not know why. Perhaps my dreams live in the Fall, and I only get to visit them in that one season, and am left with nothing but the memory of them as the other seasons roll by. Most vivid in Fall, vivid, but less alive in winter, still clear in spring, but dead and shriveled in the heat of the Summer, when I spend most of my time dabbling in the dreams of others to stay entertained. Neil Gaiman and Matt Groening have been my victims of late, and both have proved to be substantial fare - Gaiman in his novel American Gods (which I urge you all to read) and the Sandman graphic novels, and Groening in the Futurama series.
The thing I hate most about Summer is the aimlessness about it. The heat seems to melt away all sense of direction, all semblance of structure, all sensation of clarity. The whole of the season is given to distraction, which I am the unwilling slave of.
And the distraction only grows worse in the scorching heat, when exhaustion and laziness set in (and often I cannot discern the two).
The only thing Summer is really good for, from what I can discern, is to satisfy one's wanderlust. From the helpings of travel I have received from this and last Summer, I think my thirst for a good romp about the country has been quenched for at least another year. All I want to do right now is buy a hammock and sit in it all day reading articles, writing, and reading the Sandman chronicles. Well, it's mostly that last item, to tell the truth. And watch Cartoon network.
Sadly, as a result of that overwhelming desire, work doesn't always progress as it ought to during the Summer. And when that happens, the few weeks before the first day of classes becomes tense. And I have to live in that tension right now: the tension of walking in the dying heat of the Summer as the disjointed chaos cools in to the regimented order of the Fall.
*Fire Update*
The fire is, as far as I know, out. A large portion of the canyon wall is now black. I do not know if any homes were destroyed or not.
posted by Raoul The Destroyer at 12:35 AM
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