IF THERE IS ONE TOPIC OF CONVERSATION HUMANS never exhaust, it is
the status of their outdoor environment. And for as much as they discuss it, their incredulity is . . . well, incredible. That preposterous phrase: Can you believe this weather we’re having? How many times have I heard it? One thousand, nine hundred and ten, to be exact. One and a half times a day, on average. Tell me again about the intelligence of humans. They cannot even manage to comprehend predictable meteorological events.
Imagine if I were to stride over to my neighbors, the sea jellies, and, while shaking my mantle with disbelief, make a comment such as: Can you believe these bubbles these tanks are putting out today? Preposterous.
(Of course, this would also be preposterous because the jellies would not answer. They cannot communicate on that level. And they cannot be taught. Believe me, I have tried.)
Sun, rain, clouds, fog, hail, sleet, snow. Human beings have walked their earth on two feet for hundreds of millennia. One might think they would believe it already.
Today, salty-smelling sweat collected on their foreheads. Some of them fashioned the pamphlets handed out at the entrance into fans and waved them in front of their faces. Nearly all of them wore shorter garments, revealing their fleshy legs and strappy shoes that slapped back on their feet with each step.
And they refused to cease their prattle about the heat. Can you believe this weather we’re having? Seventeen times today.
A change of season has come. It has been coming for a while, as it does, with longer periods of light and shorter
periods of dark. Soon I will see the longest day of the year. Summer solstice, the humans call it.
My final summer solstice.
