Steamy
On fog, steam, and other unforeseen moisture-based encounters.
First, I apologize that it has been more than a week since I updated. I realize that, for this to be a proper accounting of the adventuring here in the plains, I must be more prompt at updating. I shall do my best. I made a note today, as I was exiting my vehicle, to translate the thought passing through my mind into the subject to share in this medium. Hopefully this will be more than simply idle reflections, but I’m also trying to simply discipline myself to actually write on a regular basis, and from there the hope is to see better writing and more interesting topics come to the aid of both readers and the writer. We shall see.
Kansas has more casual water than I have had in my life for over two decades. This was evident immediately; we arrived with moving trucks and I vividly recall noting the moss on a tree in our yard and logging it as a sign of the new world we had stepped into - moss means rain, and more of it than is strictly necessary. Until moving to California, moss was a familiar and unremarkable part of life - never unappreciated, but also never noteworthy. Then I dried out, and moss became a novelty - much like squirrels - and it a joy to quietly take delight in discovering moss whenever I happened to travel to a wetter locale, or if the unthinkable happened and we had enough rain that moss managed to survive around our home.
Well. Here, we have rain. And it is lovely. And we have moss. In abundance. It is possible that romance has wandered into my recollections, as today I am less excited to see moss when it is growing on things that I worry should probably be dry. But that is actually not what prompted this reflection today. No, today it was the experience of walking out of my house, stepping from my car, leaving a store…and each time having my sunglasses fog utterly and completely within seconds of entering the natural climate. When I was a child, I recall my parents commenting about the troubles with humidity. I still don’t view it as a foe, but it is the source of many unlooked for lessons and experiences. We have learned the hard way not to leave things which ought to be dry outside, even in the safety of our backyard, because the rain is coming. I’ve had to acknowledge the importance of keeping things dry for health and personal hygiene. And literally every window in our home is cloudy like someone took a shower for too long (I was actually worried about this, as in CA that did happen, and it meant that our windows’ seal was broken, but then I discovered that even commercial windows were like that here, so I am assuming it is part of the common experience).
So, this is part of the moist world, eh? Steam, fog, moss, mold…sweating windows and rusting metal, warped wood. Well, you take the good with the bad; green trees, birds and squirrels and lots of bugs…
Water, water, everywhere, yet not a drop to drink? Not quite.
