In St. Louis, summer and winter both strike an arbitrary point where being outside is unbearable. In winter, a wet coldness sets in, dumping bucket-loads of half-frozen slush into the streets. In summer, a wet heat swamps the city, making a minute-long foray outside feel like stepping into a sauna with a broken thermometer. In these respective times we stay cozied up indoors, drinking hot chocolate or eating popsicles, dehydrated and trapped in our mercifully climate-controlled houses.
On days like this, when the weather breaks, the humidity falls, and the temperature that seemed unbearable at the beginning of summer feels downright cool, I feel like I can begin to start living again.
I’m going to take a walk now.