In the heat

By Christine Tailer
HCP columnist

It is hot out. Perspiration beads our arms and necks and runs in rivers down our backs. We live our lives outside, in what has become our creek valley sauna. At day's end, when we return inside, the heat and humidity are there to greet us. Outside or in, we live off the grid with the creek valley weather.

Just about everyone we know lives in air-conditioned homes. They drive air-conditioned cars, shop in air-conditioned stores, and eat out in air-conditioned restaurants. I will confess, though, that at the end of a particularly hot and humid day, Greg and I will look at each other with a knowing smile, and we'll head out in one of our modern air-conditioned vehicles for a cool ride to dine in air-conditioned comfort, but such excursions are far from frequent. We live with the weather, and yes, I have learned a thing or two.

I’ve learned that I should move slowly. The other day I was painting wood preservative on three picnic tables, and yes, the picnic tables were outside. Two were in the dappled sunlight under a tree. The third was in full sunlight. I felt as though I was part of a scene in a slow-motion movie. I'd dip my brush into the paint can and slowly wipe the excess paint off on a stir stick I’d laid across the top of the can. 

Then, I'd slowly draw the brush over the table's boards. Slow motion dip, wipe, draw ... dip wipe draw. Just the slightest rustle of the leaves over my head and the bare touch of air on my face felt wonderful. I'd pause and turn towards the faint breeze. I'd stay perfectly still and not move a muscle until the air passed me by. Dip, wipe, draw ... dip, wipe draw, and then, two tables done, I moved out into the sunshine

I have also learned that the long list of things I set out to do, need not be all completed on one particular day. The sun beat down on that third table. I raised my water bottle and took a long cold swig. It tasted amazing. I set my bottle down and pondered. I could pack up my painting paraphernalia and call it a day. That would be the wise thing to do, but the water had poured new life into me. I felt able to finish my appointed task.

My brush was beginning to grow thick with congealing paint. Salty droplets fell from my forehead across the picnic table boards. The air was perfectly still.

I found myself beginning to breathe in time with my brush strokes. Dip, wipe, draw ... dip, wipe, draw. My movements grew slower, but I did not stop. I felt in no rush at all, and then I thought of the tortoise who won the race. Slow, calm, perseverance … dip, wipe, draw, and I was done. Slow and steady was the way to prevail on this hot day.

I have also learned that I am so fortunate to live in the creek valley. The creek's water not only cools my feet. It also cools my soul. Some might become frustrated in the heat of the day, distressed with things not done. Some might become "hot headed" and even lose their temper.

I have learned that no matter how hot the day, and no matter how tired I might feel, that there is nothing more wonderful than kicking off my shoes and taking a chair out into the middle of the creek where I can sit as the water washes over my feet.

The creek flows past. I feel blissfully cool. Perhaps this is the most important thing I've learned from the summertime heat. It's perfectly fine to stop, and perfectly fine to stay perfectly still.

Christine Tailer is an attorney and former city dweller who moved several years ago, with her husband, Greg, to an off-grid farm in south-central Ohio. Visit them on the web at straightcreekvalleyfarm.com.