As I'm writing this, the temperature in my office is 87.4 degrees. The sudden heat doesn't bother me, but poor Clarence has abandoned his cozy fleece perch and is sprawled in the corner of the room, with a fan blowing on him.
The transition to summer-like warmth has certainly been an abrupt one, and with it my life has suddenly become outdoor-focused. Within a half-hour after I put out fresh nectar in the back yard, not only one but two male hummingbirds showed up. The wren babies have hatched in the birdhouse -- a faint cheeping noise is audible -- and the parents are working hard to keep them fed. The pansies in my window boxes and planters, which were thriving just days ago, look distinctly wilted.
That faint yellow pollen dust that is coating every surface spells trouble for allergy sufferers.
The other day I was chatting to a front-desk clerk and she mentioned how miserable this time of year is for her. I asked her if spending the day in an air-conditioned office helps at all.
"Not really," she said, with deep resignation. "It gets in somehow."