Oh yeah by Ruth Neuwald Falcon

It rained all day today. You’d think I’d be used to rain, having spent almost thirty years in Seattle. But this is different, this seemingly endless downpour that goes on for hours without let up. Even in my air conditioned apartment, I could feel the oppressive heaviness of the atmosphere on my eyelids. This isn’t overcast skies with the occasional shower. It isn’t a thin daylong drizzle, followed by parting clouds in time for sunset. “How do you stand the damp?” non-Seattle friends would ask me when I moved there. “And the humidity.”

Here’s the funny thing (actually, at the moment, it’s not feeling very funny): It was almost never humid in Seattle. Certainly not compared to what I grew up experiencing in the Northeast.

But almost forty years away from here (Seattle plus LA plus Minneapolis) dulls the physical memory. I can deal with it, I thought when I contemplated moving back. There’s air conditioning. And being in semi-rural upstate NY isn’t like being in the City, with its steaming pavements and airless narrow corridors. It won’t be as bad as that. Couldn’t be.

I was wrong. The rain stopped about half an hour ago. I’ll just take a walk around the property, I thought. Get a little air. I’m going stir-crazy in here. Be good for me to get out.

As soon as I walked outside, I felt like I was in a swamp, not a visible one, but suffocating and clammy and air-sucking nonetheless.

I made it three-quarters of the way around the building before collapsing into a rocking chair. The humidity is down to 85% from the over 90% it was this afternoon, and the temperature is down to 75 (with the “feels like” qualifier, make that 79). The dew point (a concept I’ve never been able to quite grasp) is 69 degrees. According to the National Weather Service:

General comfort levels USING DEW POINT that can be expected during the summer months:

• less than or equal to 55: dry and comfortable
• between 55 and 65: becoming “sticky” with muggy evenings
• greater than or equal to 65: lots of moisture in the air, becoming oppressive

That I can grasp.

I’m still glad I came. I still feel that this state is my home. I just haven’t figured out how to navigate the summer months.