The land is dry, it cries out in its thirst for relief. The grass is yellow, wheaten coloured, sometimes with only the barest hint of green pushing through; trying to find its place amongst the dried debris. There is no relief, at least not yet. The rain may come but not right now. Summer here has no remorse; it is relentless in its campaign of heat. It has no pity for the plight of those who live through it, who survive the torturous, stifling breathlessness of it all. It takes no prisoners nor does it listen to the pleadings and begging of a cool change. It stands proud it in its seasonal glory, reminding all who forget throughout the cooler months.
The salty sweat trickles down my spine, over my brow, between my breasts, glistening on my top lip. So hard to breathe, the air still, no movement, no relief. The sun beats down on stone, warming the house through. It is too much; it is a reminder of the season that leaves in its wake, the death of spring. My head spins, light from the heat. The beginning ache of a telltale migraine begins to take shape, my body flushing from the rapidly changing temperature of my blood. At last, the wind begins, it is not cool but it is a break from the hot monotony of the day, of the forthcoming wave of heat determined to remind us all that summer is here and has found its stride.
My eyes become unfocused, no longer seemingly connected to my mind, I see the gradual fading out of my vision, and even my minds eye wants no part of the heat pervading my very system right now. My body is in its monthly cycle, it can’t withstand the assault for much longer, as it warms so too does my inner core. It is a simple yet devastating fact that affects me during summer. The body heats during its cycle by as much as three degrees. Combine this with horrendous 38C+ weather, on the increase in the coming week, and it becomes exhausting. Sleep barely brings relief. Summer is a harsh mistress and she is unforgiving in her treatment of the land and her inhabitants. As she strips, she burns. A simple blade of grass cannot survive her fury.
But even with the harshness, and the tiredness and lethargy it brings me, as a witch I cannot help but appreciate the reminder of the power of the seasons. It is distinctly different from any other time of the year and it shows us that there is power in the summer sun even as it wears us down, it is a powerful energy. It can become the source for solar power, it can create natural heating for systems within the home, and it provides a sense of divide from its neighbours of spring and autumn. I understand the cycles of nature better, I can connect and feel it. I may not like it, but I can feel it.
There are curses of the heat, like snakes inside the house – not an enjoyable experience by any stretch, but there are also blessings. Rich, red, ripe tomatoes on the vine, burgeoning green corn developing husks and growing beautifully in the sun, scented summer flowers and the forthcoming harvest promise. I take summer as the awesome powerful she-devil that it is and look toward the cooling winds, whenever they may come. I appreciate the absoluteness of the season, knowing its place marks the journey of the year, from light to dark (oh but I wish the dark would come sooner) and light again. I abhor the heat that reminds me but I can see the beauty in the stark reality of summer’s fiery rays.