I would have to say that the latter half of August is my least favourite time of the year. Starting the fall semester a week and a half before the calendar rolls over to September still doesn't seem right to me. At this point, blessed as it is, summer has long worn out its welcome, and I am eager to embrace autumn. I don't care for September much more than Autumn, but at least it's an emergence from the hot, sultry dog days and one month closer to October. It's peculiar I should even be commenting on climatic changes, as seasonal variation this close to the equator is barely noticeable. It is possible, however, to detect that it is slightly cooler here, even at sea level, in the winter. Winter in Hawaii is, well, far more appealing to me than summer. There are more exciting storms that bring more rain, more snow, and cooler temperatures. I miss cold fronts dearly, especially on a day as obnoxiously hot, dry, and clear as today. While walking outside today between classes, I realised that I truly dislike the sensation of sunlight against my skin, when it's brutally blazing full strength and ten seconds exposure to it leaves me feeling overly warm, itchy, and unclean. It's an entirely different tale up in the mountains, where the sunlight is actually welcomed for it contrasts so beautifully with the cool breeze and brisk, thin air. Ultimately, given the choice between living on the beach and at 6,000 feet, I would go for the latter without thinking. Days like today here at 36 feet above sea level sap my energy and patience away more than anything, but a cloudless day at a high elevation would invigorate and inspirit me nearly as much as a foggy one. When one experiences conditions at both elevations in one day, the distinction between them is easily made. The cool mountain air makes me feel positively jovial and lively, while a hot day near the coast makes me want to retreat into a dark lava tube and hibernate until the setting sun paved a trail to crepuscular relief. The hot sunlight pouring through my windows early this morning made me fall out of bed and sleep the next couple of hours on the cool floor on the other side of the room. If I could find one retailer around here that sells true black-out curtains, I might not have such a problem with feeling like I fell asleep inside a toaster on some mornings. When your overall mood for the day and ability to function and perform happens to be so dependent on the weather, these sorts of things are important investments.

I will also admit that I was annoyed to a fair degree when the instructor of my last class stated just before I walked out the door, "enjoy your weekend, I think it's going to be nice and sunny." I gritted my teeth and commanded myself to continue walking in a straightforward manner before my instinct got the best of me and I charged back to the front desk to claw her about the face. I know it's a ritual of so many people to go bask in the sun using minimal protection, giving their skin that golden-coppery look that is supposed to be a contemporary status symbol of beauty. Personally, though, I consider being torched with hazardous UV rays all day anything but "nice." If anything is nice, it's rain, for it cleans, purifies, washes away the dust and grime, gives everything that verdant sheen and mirthful sparkle, and eliminates most of the unpleasant heat. While so many people are out lying on the beach self-nurturing the development of skin cancer, I would rather be frolicking about in the mountain mist... nice and rainy, nice and rainy.

One good thing about daytime, though, is that it's only a matter of time before darkness finally arrives... and that's when I really start to spring to life. Evening twilight is but a metaphor for anticipation.