July 6, 2024

Summer Heat

I woke up feeling rested and excited about another day off work. Since our Nespresso order finally came in, we could drink our favorite coffees once again. That alone was a good start to the day.

We drank our coffee outside, enjoying the cooler morning temperatures. A pleasant breeze blew through the trees while we watched two baby cardinals perched on the fence with their parents. Up in a tree, a new species showed its face. The small bird looked similar to a northern cardinal without its sharp crest, but its red color was a slightly different hue. This was a summer tanager.

My wife had plans to study all day to prepare for her end of curriculum exam. We sat outside with our laptops, where my wife studied while I wrote. It was a nice, relaxing morning outdoors. Once the coolness wore off, we came back inside and resumed our activities at the dining room table. I sipped on another cup of coffee, enjoying every drop.

Later, I moved to the couch, occasionally looking up to watch the pasture, which was perfectly framed by the window. Bodhi slept beside me, snoring loudly, prompting me to slip my noise-canceling headphones into my ears. When I was done with my writing session, I changed clothes and gathered my things for sitting in the blind. My wife moved to my office, where she studied for the rest of the day.

I made my way down toward the blind using a well-worn trail that began behind the house. My hands were full as I carried plenty of supplies, including three cans of flavored water and a small bag of salty chips. As usual, I had my two cameras and a small camera bag slung over my shoulders.

When I arrived at the feeding area, I grabbed some bird feed and deer corn that were stored inside the blind. As I replenished the feeder, I noticed the air was thick from the humidity, giving the forest a hazy look. I monitored the heat index, knowing the humidity would make for a tough day outdoors once the sun came up. When I zipped myself inside the blind, the heat index was at 92 degrees.

A northern cardinal visited the area, but I was busy attending to a skink that had taken refuge under the cardboard floor in my blind. In the distance, I heard a dear bark, hearing it again about half an hour later. A black swallowtail butterfly was hanging around the area, stopping to feed on bird excrement that had fallen on an oak leaf. Ah, the circle of life.

The heat index rose to 102, and I was happy I had the water and chips. The birds were out today, and it was fun shooting them, but I really wanted to photograph some deer. My wife called me on the phone to make sure I was still alive. I whispered as quietly as possible, impressed that my phone had a signal. We laughed, and I got busy sitting quietly again.

At 103 degrees, nothing much was going on. As I sat and waited, I thought it strange that different species of birds fed in unison. The feeding area would be completely empty, and then when one bird showed up, like a wren, then several other kinds of birds would show up. After they finished eating, all the birds would fly away, leaving the place empty again. Maybe they understood the songs of other birds when they found food, or perhaps they knew there was safety in numbers.

As the day went on, the heat index continued to climb. 104 felt as miserable as it sounded. Then it was 105, which felt exponentially worse. When the temperature hit 106, I called it a day, gathering my things to head home to cool off. As I was zipping up my camera bag, I heard a deer bark. It was close. I peered out the side window and saw a doe that was assessing the area for danger. I grabbed a quick video before she ran off. Five hours in the blind, and I saw a deer at hour five for about twenty seconds. Long live wildlife photography.

Overheated, I strapped on my cameras and bag, grabbing the empty water cans and ziplock bag of urine, toting everything as I walked to the pine grove. It felt good to be out of the blind and to move my body. In the grove, I heard a deer bark, but didn’t spot it. I made a minor detour to the empty crop field where I checked for deer, but there was just an empty soybean field with one long stalk of corn jutting out of the field. I laughed. On most days, I felt like that stalk of corn.

When I got back to the house, the cool air inside made me smile. I put away my equipment and stripped off my outer clothing, lying down on the floor under the ceiling fan. After cooling off, I devoured some watermelon doused with lemon juice my wife had prepared. She was still studying. Her focus and commitment impressed me.

Today, I felt more at home with the heat. Spending extended time outdoors was helping me to acclimate to the weather. I had a slight headache and needed some water, but I felt pretty good. I experienced the same thing in the winter when the bitter cold ceased feeling bitter. It was the same with the heat. It was hot, but I was becoming more tolerant.

I took a shower and then ate a sandwich. After, I sipped on a cup of coffee while working on the computer. A few hours later, when my wife was ready for a break, she made an early dinner. We ate and then she went back to studying while I laid down on the new spare bed for a half hour nap. When I woke up, my wife was done, so I fulfilled a weekend promise and took her to Culver’s for ice cream.

On the way back from Culver’s, we drove by a large doe that was dead on the side of the road. Two vultures were getting ready for dinner and I felt grateful we were still far from home, and this was not a deer that I knew.

As night fell, dark clouds rolled in, cooling the evening sky. The wind bent the tall pines, making them sway. We were about to have a thunderstorm, a welcome reprieve from this day of crazy heat.