66/100 Days of I Believe

I believe in open windows.

It's always seemed to me, and I've written about it before but it's been years, that we ought to open the windows in the summertime. Some people in my family prefer air conditioning and I like air conditioning too, but when we shut the windows and turn on the air and it's 68 or 72 or 65 or whatever degrees in the house all year round I'm likely to forget about Popsicles and flip flops.

What makes this season different from the next, or the last? It's how it's hot and little bit uncomfortable sometimes, and the days are long and the sun comes streaming through the windows warming the wood floors and the bed clothes and we're seeking out the breeze or the shade or a tall icy lemonade.

Is it hot and sticky sometimes? Yes. (And I turn on the air conditioning more than my fair share, believe me!) But it's the hot sticky sweaty discomfort that makes the breeze and the shade and the icy lemonade all the sweeter. It's the sound of the birds in the early morning and the frogs at night. It's the light sheet on the bed instead of a heavy blanket. It's the fan we bring up from the basement, the sliced watermelon, a thunderstorm. it grounds me in this season. It reminds me I'm alive.