Apocalyptic Heat

Apocalyptic Heat, a struggle between what people do to nature and what nature does back to people. Dump oil in the water, forcing hot damp air north, creating extreme heat and monsoon rain where such weather never happened before. Cities pounded by rain, dangerous, record-breaking temperatures, high winds, I remember the days when people denied global warming and argued that such a term was coined by a handful of fanatical ex-hippies to describe how nature sometimes goes through unusual weather cycles. Now global warming is a household word.

     On a human level, the struggle with heat takes on dream-like proportions. Last night, going to bed in the heat and humidity was like entering the arena with a fierce opponent. The heat monster grabbed me by the throat and pressed down hard on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. For a few moments, the room spun around and I began to float out of my body. The roar of traffic dragged me back to earth. A freeway sunk into the earth, like a cavity; freeway noise, heat and suffocation spun me into a dance of death. Eventually I collapsed into a coma-like sleep and woke up the next morning, weak and groggy; nothing a strong cup of coffee couldn’t fix.

Walk into waist-high weeds, to a mountain ash tree as the sky darkens and wind creates the feeling that a storm is on the way. Dark inside the house, walk around without a shirt on. Fabric burns the skin. Moisture forms on the soles of the feet, causing a sticky contact with the floor. Extreme heat and humidity, even the walls appear to sweat and ooze. Air becomes like a tactile jelly. The body comes apart, ribs open, lungs fall out on to the floor and intestines trail behind.