Monday, August 17, 2009

Haze

The definition of humidity in these parts is the inability to see Vinalhaven even though the weather is clear. At last we have it this summer: moisture that's not flooding us in rain or smothering us in fog; it's just plain hot southern haze.

For several days now the breeze has been as quiet and the water as calm as I can remember. The kayakers are out in force. Children's voices carry over the cove from Crockett's Beach. Not much else moves, including the brain.

Walking in the heat up on the road, suffering, we might as well be wearing black like Haze Motes, in Wise Blood. We might also be preoccupied, like him, by matters mortal. We come back to the relative cool of the shore, of the imagination, of words. They help lift us out of the doldrums.

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