For many full-time lakeside residents, the summer rainy season is the best time of year weather-wise.

We lavish the relief from May’s scorching temperatures, raving about the refreshment of lush green landscapes fed by steady precipitation. So, what gives with the sweltering heat and slacking rains that have prevailed for the past few weeks?

Well, we’re going through a not altogether atypical meteorological phenomenon local folks call la canícula. It’s a midsummer dry spell that may run as long as 40 days. Storm clouds and rainfall diminish, bringing on misery as thermometer readings rise.

English-speakers refer to the sultry peak of summer as the dog days. Both the Spanish and Anglo terms derive from the Latin dies caniculares and a Greek equivalent pinpointing astronomical observances of summer skies. Astrologers of these ancient cultures associated the rising of the star Sirius or Canis Majoris in mid-July with the onset of a period marked by intense heat, drought, sudden thunderstorms, lethargy, fever, mad dogs and bad luck.

Our little corner of paradise may not be afflicted by all of the above, but lately many of us have certainly found ourselves once again cranking up fans, or God forbid, air conditioning and opening faucets to water-parched gardens.

If it brings any comfort, it turns out we’re not alone in sweating out this year’s dog days. A heat wave is currently striking most of the Northern Hemisphere, all the way from Algeria to the Arctic Circle.

Wildfires have been blazing in Greece, Scandinavia, Canada and the USA. Japan attributes at least 65 deaths to the brutal heat. In Siberia, one of the coldest regions on the planet, temperatures have registered up to 32° Celsius.

Scientists say the troubling weather comes from the combination of a La Niña season with modern day climate change. They also debunk any connection with Sirius. Although it stands out as the brightest star in the night sky, it’s located 8.7 light-years away from Earth, having no impact whatsoever on the orb’s weather or temperatures. And while making a shiny appearance at the height of summer, its position is gradually drifting relative to the Sun. In another 10,000 years it will rise in the middle of winter.

There are some other interesting astronomical events coming up that probably won’t do a darn thing to quell the canícula. On Friday, July 27 the world will experience the longest total lunar eclipse of the 21st Century, lasting close to two hours. We won’t be witnessing the shadow crossing the moon in these parts, but we might see it taking on a blood-red glow. In a simultaneous happening that occurs only every 15 to 17 years, Mars will be close enough to earth to be clearly visible to the naked eye.

Mexico is also out of the path of the partial solar eclipse that will cross many countries in the Northern Hemisphere on August 11.

So while sky-watchers elsewhere take in these celestial glories, I’ll be hanging out here in Ajijic, fanning my brow, sipping icy margaritas and anxiously waiting for the dog days to subside.