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I’m ready for fall. There, I’ve said it.
Those of you who read this drivel on a regular basis know I don’t like fall because of the reason for the name – millions and billions and gazillions of leaves falling from the highly fertile trees in my yard.
As I’ve said before, when it comes to plants I have a brown thumb.
However, my trees break all records for putting out leaves.
And it’s the removal of those tons and tons of leaves that turns me off on fall. I have yet to find a system for getting up leaves that doesn’t either break my back or set off my allergies.
But this year I’m ready to see cooler temperatures.
Is it my advanced years playing tricks on me or has this summer been the hottest, most humid, most draining on the human physique in recorded history?
Whatever statistics may reveal about the past three months, I’ve never experienced a summer that’s left me so often feeling on the verge of perishing.
OK, this is where I pause for the standard “as a matter of disclosure”: I’m a runner.
Yeah, I know. People driving around town in their climate-controlled motor vehicles see me running in 97-degree temperatures and wonder who let me out of the facility.
At least I know I’m crazy. On the other hand, I’ve been running regularly in all kinds of weather for 30 years. But this summer has been different.
It’s the first year I’ve worn a water belt, feeling like some nomad on a camel trekking across the Sahara to the next oasis. But when the oasis is just three miles away, you’d think carrying a bottle of water wouldn’t be necessary.
Even during those early-morning runs when it’s only in the 70s, the humidity this year has had the effect of making me perspire to the point that I wind up totally soaked from head to foot. I even have to squeeze out my socks.
But there are positives to flirting with heat stroke. For one, a three-mile run can help me lose 10 pounds of fluids.
Second – well, actually, I can’t think of a second positive.
On the other hand, the summer heat has had a nice affect on my yard. I’ve only had to mow the yard about half as often as I normally do in a summer.
I can tell you that the grass is visibly upset by the heat. And it isn’t that it’s brown – the grass is still reasonably green from the occasional rains.
But when I go out to look at the yard, if I study it really closely I can sense the grass pant.
I kid you not, the blades of grass are curled over like a dog’s tongue. I can only assume that they – as I – are gasping for breath in the endless heat.
So, I’m ready for fall.
Me and the grass gotta have some relief.
Larry Penkava, who has written Now and Then since 1994, isn’t ready yet to declare himself a fall guy. He can be reached at lpenkava@randolphguide.com
