Trees and plants

// A flexible tree in Sintra, Portugal //

We're experiencing a stolid wave of humidity and the air everywhere feels squishy. As though one could wring it and dry it out. It was 40 degrees yesterday; apparently just shy of setting a record in this city. 

The wet heat reminds me of a yoga hot room without the undercurrents of citrus and bliss (and with the ever-present scents of garam masala and turmeric in our curry-obsessed corner apartment - I cooked up a spinach, chickpea and sweet potato curry last night). I love the feeling of heavy heat even though it adds a dimension of difficulty to running, which as I see it can be performed only in the early hours before the sun has gathered its vampiric strength. When you get right down to it, I am a wuss! I watch people run by me on the sidewalk in direct sunlight and a churning wave of nausea creeps up. Biking in this weather is a lot easier on the core temperature.

I ran yesterday morning at 6:30 for 38 minutes, and 90 minutes later my face was still a tomato!

Next February, when I'm outside and can't feel my toes in my thick boots, the memory of this sticky heat will seem unreal. 

// Road to the palace: Sintra //