What’s
funny are the moments you take for granted. Like the sun that’s too hot and
gives you no respite. You’re so dry but you sweat anyway and when you turn your
head to the side to escape it, the scorch of the heat strikes you on the side
of the face and neck. The only way you can win is to lift your face directly
towards the sun, with your eyes closed and challenge it, like your demons. “C’mon
then”, you whisper through gritted teeth. When you sit in your car, which has
been parked in the heat the whole day and the lino burns the backs of your
thighs. Ironically, your thighs are bare because it’s too hot to wear long
pants. When you can’t touch the steering wheel with the flat of your hands, so
you sacrifice the inner skin of your less dominant fingers, because you forgot
to put the protective reflective cover over the steering wheel.
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| Dry Todd River bed. Image nicked from www.averylongjourney.co.uk |
Nothing burns like the discomfort of extremes. Before I left,
I sat in the sun with my face raised to it, drinking it in, not knowing when I
would feel it like that again. Flip the world around, flip my world around, and
I’m here, in this moment. At the end of a very dark autumn, in the middle of a
very dark winter. Dark, because the sun has been absent for most of it. Dark,
because the clouds are more overbearing than the sun’s rays in these parts. My
rationale, is of similar way of life. Reduced hours outside, to manage the
extreme temperatures, the undesirable weather. Select the best moments of the
day to be outside, make the most of what is appropriate activity in the
restrictive climate. Am I vague enough? Sun sports v winter sports. But what I can’t
escape is the cold nose, the cold feet, the cold extremities.
I open the door and breathe in the frosty air. My vocabulary changes. Now I need to clarify whether temperatures are above or below freezing. All the different types of snow have a name. Mine and my children’s clothing choice depends to a precision point on the weather that morning, and for the rest of the day. Do they wear the boots with an inner-fleece lining? Are they water-proofed enough for temperatures hovering just on or just over 0 dgs C? What about their jackets, overalls? If it is said temperatures, do I have enough of the wet gear to get them through a day of outdoor play? What about catching a cold? Put the woolen socks on within their gumboots. Fleece or no fleece-lining? What about over-heating? Which beanie for which humidity level? And in the mean- time, what about me? Inside v outside. How much will I be where? Which type of building will I be in? Is it warm enough or will I freeze? Shoes? Socks? Layers? God help me if I forget one thing. Why hasn’t anyone invented a beanie just for the tip of my nose?
I open the door and breathe in the frosty air. My vocabulary changes. Now I need to clarify whether temperatures are above or below freezing. All the different types of snow have a name. Mine and my children’s clothing choice depends to a precision point on the weather that morning, and for the rest of the day. Do they wear the boots with an inner-fleece lining? Are they water-proofed enough for temperatures hovering just on or just over 0 dgs C? What about their jackets, overalls? If it is said temperatures, do I have enough of the wet gear to get them through a day of outdoor play? What about catching a cold? Put the woolen socks on within their gumboots. Fleece or no fleece-lining? What about over-heating? Which beanie for which humidity level? And in the mean- time, what about me? Inside v outside. How much will I be where? Which type of building will I be in? Is it warm enough or will I freeze? Shoes? Socks? Layers? God help me if I forget one thing. Why hasn’t anyone invented a beanie just for the tip of my nose?
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| Me. In Finland. Bout -10 dgs C. |
How do I adapt
to these? How do I exchange one discomfort for another? Is it mind over matter?
Do I have enough sisu (Finnish inner-strength likened to that of a wolf)? Can I
lift my chin and face the bitter challenge when all I want to do is curl into
a ball and have repeated hot showers, long hot steamy baths, feel the burn of
the hot sand on the back of me. The dichotomy is fractured as I try to convince
myself I know how to deal with it.