Summertime in Texas

Here it is, the official first day of summer. Yet here in Texas, we've been experiencing summer for some two months already.

Spring here is short. Not in the official sense; in the official sense, it's still three months long, but in the practical sense, spring lasts but a month or so and then the heat sweeps in and kills everything that was verdant and lush. That's Texas. That's the price we pay for not having excruciatingly hard winters, lots of snow and ice and for not needing tire chains. Our cars don't rust away from the salted roads in winter, but they must have a working AC.

I recall meeting a fellow at a church we were once members of. He and his wife were from Wyoming--the mountainous part--and had moved to the area for seminary. We worked together on a building project at church for a few weeks, using his truck at one point to haul sheetrock. It had no AC. He bemoaned the fact, stating that in Wyoming, AC was pretty much optional. He had bought this truck new, opting to forgo the cost of climate control. Being in Texas for a summer made him regret that frugal decision.

I've lived in two different climate zones in Texas. I grew up in East Texas, which is a close to a tropical zone as this state gets. The humidity is high, there is usually abundant rainfall, and anything will grow there. Drop a penny on the ground, and in a week's time, pick up a nickle. I've also lived, for the past 24 years, in North Texas. While not arid, the climate here is considerably less humid. Here it is more of a dry heat. Somewhere between June and July, my yard turns into a nice shade of brown, maybe a rich tan. Other than the dustiness, I don't mind not mowing. The heat makes outside projects that endure over several hours unbearable. I've found that when I spend three or four hours outside in the heat of the day, it probably takes me twice as long to recuperate once I've retired. I've never been a big sweater, but Texas heat will draw perspiration out of anyone or anything.

I especially loathe my job in this heat. Imagine standing at a graveside, the temperature hovering at or around 100°F. You are wearing a wool blend suit, a long-sleeved dress shirt, an undershirt and a tie. Did I mention the suit is black? Ten seconds in that environment, and you feel the hot liquid your body is expelling running down your back. Here's some inside information: the coolest place to be in that situation is under a tree, not under the tent. I used to tell my biology students this. I would ask them what they thought happened to all that moisture that a tree sucks out of the ground. It evaporates through the leaves of the tree, and this evaporation cools the temperature around, but especially under that tree where the shade is. Being under that tree, you experience creation's air conditioning.

Fall will be here soon, yet not soon enough. It's usually November before we start seeing traditional fall-like weather. I love the bleakness and gray of fall. The clouds cover the sky, hanging there as if their role is to block all the joy out of people's lives. There's usually not a lot of fall color here, unless you consider brown one of those colors. Fall and spring are my favorite seasons. They are my most productive times. I can accomplish more outside when the heat is not sucking life out of me and when the cold isn't rendering my extremities into numb, lifeless stumps.

We once visited some friends that lived in Burlington, Ontario, which is part of the Greater Toronto area. They had a lovely, huge home in a nice suburban neighborhood. What I remember the most about their house, other than the huge basement, was that they had two--that is, two--double-pane sliding doors on the back of their house, one mounted inside the house, one outside. I don't want to live anywhere where it gets so cold that this kind of construction is necessary.

Living with humidity or heat is something you get used to. Living in East Texas humidity for twenty years, I didn't know there was anything different. Then I move to North Texas and become acclimated here. Now, when I return home for a visit in the summer, the humidity makes the air so thick you feel you are breathing in pudding instead of air.

So I live in Texas without regrets. I love this state and want to be nowhere else. Listening to others bemoan the heat, I just shake my head. Sure, there may be other places where the climate is perfect, never too hot, never too cold. But when the climate is perfect, the imperfections will lie elsewhere.