"listen: there’s a hell of a good universe next door; let’s go"

Saving Emily from the Firworks

From yesterday morning’s cool but sticky ramble.

Summer has been dreadful, as I fear all summers will be going forward. Climate change is a nasty bugger, and humankind deserves it for all our sins against nature. But by God, I’m getting too old for this shit. Humidity has ransacked the last two summers, and I long for autumn’s cool, crisp kiss. Even last night, when fireworks were exploding above Jackson, we were seven miles away, on the other side of a stretch of minor mountains to offer us quiet; we walked into the night with temperatures barely above 60 degrees. But the humidity soaked my shirt after those humble three miles in the forest.

For Emily’s sake, to ensure she did not have to suffer the booms and bangs that now unnerve and shake her, we drove a 40-mile loop after our walk, through winding, dark roads, some of them dirt. While it was chilly, we still came home to humidity. We are all still getting to know the HMS Beagle, but I can tell you this much: We love the sunroof a…