September is usually one of my favorite months. Cooler weather, crisp breezes, and signs that fall is about to burst its pallet of color. Living on the Connecticut River, this is an added joy.  

So far, this September, however, there has been one of the worst heat waves in this area’s history. It’s not that I’m anxious for ice and snow, wind chills, and gloomy days. And, I really am not usually a complainer. Even my handwriting has evidence of my extreme optimism.

 But, I have to say, this heat wave, with its extremely high humidity, has me not only feeling lethargic, instead of my usual September vigor, but has been so constant it’s hard even to sleep or work.

Yes, I know the heat has to subside–eventually. But, like a winter that hangs on through March, and a summer that starts in May, losing spring, as we had this year, what I don’t like is a summer that creeps through September, so that we lose fall too.  

Today, I attempted a short walk to the boat dock, about a quarter mile, because my weight loss has plateaued, mostly, I believe, from the weeks of humidity that have caused me to give up my two miles a day. I decided I just had to tough it out. I came back feeling like a human heater, gulping down water, and not sure I should be doing so much moving as the temp climbs to 88 degrees F. (Weather info says “feels like 92) and the humidity climbs higher.

 There is even an air quality alert–most likely intended for seniors. Beware.
Oh my. Even this much complaining is starting to affect me. I really am so grateful for our river house, and so amazed that I get this amazing view every single day, probably for the rest of my life, that it is just not right to find things not to like.

So, with perspiration rolling down my face, humidity that seems to require two showers a day–or a dip in the river, which I still haven’t tried–I suppose I will just sit in the heatwave on our deck and celebrate life anyway.