Tuesday, July 30, 2002

Hi Abba Zabbas!

Here is why I love Minneapolis (and St. Paul, Suzanne!):

From the Star-Tribune Weather page today:

"Yesterday's respite from jungle-like heat and crackling thunder was welcome indeed, but we'll start to feel the humidity again today. Last week, I mentioned that increased irrigation of farm fields might be one reason why it seems to be getting stickier in Minnesota, with more dew point days near 80. Here's another theory: New corn hybrids release more water into the air via vapo-transpiration, according to researchers in Chicago. More moisture in the air may fuel thunderstorms as early as this evening, with a better chance of roving gangs of strong storms tonight and Wednesday."

Anyone born and raised in a desert city knows how novel all of this sounds--the thought of cornfields, jungle-like heat, roving gangs of thunderstorms. But that's how it is.

When it rains here, it doesn't rain, it plops. The raindrops are fat as fuck and soak you like a warm shower. It gets dark and the air sticks to your skin and a breeze picks up and then you're running through a warm shower, hoping you don't get struck by lightning.

It makes your hair curly and your skin dewy as hell.

It makes you feel fertile.

The grasses, trees, bushes, flowers, weeds, dragonflies, mosquitos, squirrels, raccoons, lakes, algae, fish, chipmunks, birds, crickets, frogs, rabbits, and the rest of creation spawn madly, proliferating and vibrating, and you remember that we people are really squatters here. If we disappeared, this city would be overgrown and overtaken by Everything in three months. It's a constant battle to hold Nature back here.

Just like laundry. It never fucking ends, man.



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