Dog Days

Rain and humidity have dominated the past few days in the natural world around my cabin. The rain was welcome, and everything looks newly green again. The humidity is less welcome. Nothing dries out—not the clothes on my line, not me. Even inside the cabin everything feels damp. Today—more rain. I’m just hoping the clothes don’t rot before they dry.

High humidity is one of the hallmarks of summer in this area. We even have a name for it—the 3 H’s (hazy, hot and humid). At the moment I am experiencing two out of those three. Fortunately, it’s not all that hot. But even with a temperature of only 75 degrees or so, the extreme humidity makes me feel uncomfortably warm, because the dew point is nearly the same as the temperature. Humans start to say the weather feels oppressive when the dew point gets to the range of 59-68. Currently, I have 70 for a dew point. It’s a bit like breathing water right now, only without the gills.

I didn’t foray much into the woods this weekend. Even the dogs didn’t seem to mind my lack of activity for once. Last evening but well before dark, a time we usually spend walking, we sat out on the front deck and listened to two great horned owls call. The birds were close to the cabin, and nearly every call came from a slightly different spot, though I never saw them. The dogs were content to loll on the deck with me and didn’t seem to miss our evening walk. Baby Dog barked at the owls, though. Dog and I didn’t move.