It's officially summer in New York. The heat has set in, everything's lush, and all anyone can really talk about is how the creeping humidity breathes heavy sighs down their neck.
I, however, find myself in transit. I am roaming up and down the northeast coast in a matter of week's time. A constant state of motion that would seemingly have me dripping from the pores, but actually finds me in a perpetually air conditioned room.
It seems I'm not alone. Very scientific cultural studies find that the nicer the office, cafe or store that you find yourself in might be, the lower the thermostat is dropped. As if to chill the class right into you.
But I say, I'll freeze when I'm dead.
But I say, I'll freeze when I'm dead.
Theses days, there's nothing more luxurious than an escape from that arctic blast. I strategically plan my exit against ticking of the clock, when the minute hand strikes the hour in which I'll catch the last squeeze of the setting sun. Leave the jacket at the door, drop the heels along the way. Let the hands fall free and create a breeze in hot evening air. A summer stroll taken for the damn sake of strolling.
"Les Fraises" are summer strawberry cupcakes topped with a whipped pillow of vanilla bean and lemon cream cheese buttercream. Have you ever seen the way water beads up on the side of freshly washed fruit? Fresh, cold, dripping. That is a true summer sweat.
Let's make a mess of ourselves this season in the bounty of summer's fruits. May we all find something a little closer to natural air and learn to appreciate it for what it really is. After all, we crossed our fingers, our toes and everything else that winter would finally go.
Your wish has been granted. Enjoy it.
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