Sophie, heat-hazed in London, gives thanks and reflects on the wonders of water —resolving to respect and savour the stuff with proper mindfulness in the future.
This last hot week I have been counting my blessings: and particularly raising my voice in praise of water.
This is not a new subject for me. But periodically in my life I have been comprehensively reminded that water is a very great blessing and not one to be taken for granted.
This week has delivered record high temperatures. In London, where I live, this is particularly trying.
Relatively low lying, London in the heat is humid, dusty, and sweltering. This is a shock. Even with weather forecasts warning us, I do not find myself prepared. Normally London is not warm. Or at least, it has not been in the past. Apart from a quick blast of summer sun, which touched the pavements with diamonds but keeps the rain always at hand, London is the model of mild and overcast. This foreign tasting weather is a shock to the system.
I remember visiting Venezuela back in the last century. When I got out of the plane at Caracas airport, I recall gasping for air like a landed fish. As I told my Beloved, when I wrote home, it was like walking into a blanket made of hot, damp marshmallow. Stifling, in a word. Not at all what I was used to.
And now, that is exactly what living in London has felt like in the last few weeks. Impossible to breathe. Utterly alien.
And it has made me take stock of how much I take for granted. Continue reading