Mid-May and lakeside’s devilish hot season is reaching its peak.  Like a lot of folks who stick it out here year round, this is the time of the year when the atmosphere tends to throw me a bit off kilter, making me feel more lazy and crazy than ever. 

I fumble a lot, dropping utensils as I wash the dishes, forgetting what item I opened the pantry to search for, and misplacing my keys, my purse, my shopping list. Patience easily wears thin and the fuse of a volatile temper becomes shorter than usual. I curse at idiot drivers out on the highway. I shoo away the dogs who keeping sneaking inside to find a spot on the cool tile floor to catch a snooze. I snarl at the T.V. commentators espousing political views that go against the grain.

I can usually get essential chores accomplished by midday. After that the heat kicks in and few things seem important enough to drive me into action.  Falling full tilt into mañana syndrome, I’ll put off pending matters for another day. The world won’t end if I don’t get around to paying the phone bill, calling the plumber to fix a leaky faucet, loading up the washing machine or hauling the broken lawn mower over to the repair guy. 

As the afternoon drags on, the steady drone of the cicadas seem to intensify skyrocketing temperatures.  I actually welcome the peculiar buzzing “song” of these seasonal bugs people refer to as rain birds. It’s the signal to forget all cares and just drop my behind into the hammock in the shade of the terrace or hunker down in the coolest corner of the house with the fan turned up to full speed, with a tall icy drink in hand.  And more than that, the penetrating sound is a constant reminder that the wonder and delight of summer rains are just around the corner.  

Most of the time nightfall brings a few hours of blessed relief. The pounding inside my head dissipates and sharpened brainpower returns for a while. I grab a flashlight and cautiously explore the garden, looking for the cutter ants that come out when least expected to invade flower beds and devour prize plants.

Out in the darkness this is the season I may be drawn by the spectacle and enticing aroma of a night-blooming cereus.  The Mexicans here call this variety of cactus Reina de Noche – Queen of the Night. 

The gorgeous star-shaped blossoms start unfolding after sundown. If you are able to muster the patience, you can actually pull up a seat and watch the fat buds spring open right before your eyes.  On a good night, I find a dozen or more blossoms appearing all at once. When morning comes the first rays of the sunlight cause the petals to wither and die.

Somehow, just when my level of crankiness gets to the breaking point, that’s the sort of marvel of nature that restores my equilibrium enough to endure one more day in May.