Light

More than two years ago, my central air conditioning broke.  It was July.  It was hot.  One problem turned into another and then another and another and the air conditioner never got fixed. 

Yes, I live in Florida without central air.  And yes, it is possible.  I have a room air conditioner.  My condo faces north.  I'm well insulated by the condos above, below and behind me.  And this summer, my dad and I installed blackout curtains to try and keep things a hair cooler.

I miss central air.  I miss the luxury of turning down a thermostat and cold air pouring out of the vents.

I also miss the light.

I really miss the light.  I miss opening the blinds in the morning.  I miss the sun.  Every afternoon, I pull up the blinds about a foot in my office and let the cat lounge on top of the bookcase, the sunlight washing over him.  He basks in it, his head up, his eyes closed.

This morning was cool enough that when I went to Hope, I didn't have to run from the hot sun.  I didn't have to leap from shadow to shadow and avoid the streaks of light running through the grass.

Instead I was given moments of staring at the sky, at the clouds that seemed like streaks of paint, afterthoughts, or Bob Ross mistakes, "happy little clouds."

For whatever reason, I was distracted this morning and didn't stay out long enough to truly enjoy the morning.  I have a collapsible stool in my car which I haven't used yet.  But maybe it's time.  Maybe I need to take the time and not hurry or rush my time each morning at Hope.  Maybe the goal isn't taking the picture.  Maybe the goal is simply to breathe.

Breathe fresh, unfiltered air.

Breathe and bask in the light.