A return home to the beloved land of fog and forest, after nearly three weeks in the desert mountains above Palm Springs, where my wife and I ventured to go house sit a couple of golden doodles, while their masters went away. I thought I would be doing some writing, but from the first day onward the sizzling heat disturbed my thinking. I thought I might be able to quickly acclimate to hot dry desert air, but several locals assured me that early adaptation does not come so easily.

There were long days when the air temperature reached 100 or more by 10AM, then would frequently tick up to about 115 in mid-day, and not drop below the 100-mark again until after dark. This is my third visit to the area within the last year. Late fall and early spring are magical, but the days of summer render me nearly useless. I have slipped into a mode of lethargy that may require several more days of this cool coastal fog before I can find my right mind.

We were so anxious to leave, when the owners of the home returned, that we simply got in our car and drove all night, our tongues hanging out of the sides of our mouths, drooling over the promise of real and natural air, without the forced roar and chill of conditioning. Somewhere in the middle of the night we drove into mist that hung low in coastal valleys, which required that wiper blades salute the arrival of a much cooler, heaven-like world.

I did some reading while away in the desert, but found concentrating on the flow of words and ideas to be slowed and strange as well. There are places in the desert landscape that look like rivers, but have no sign of water in them. I'm slowing enough on my own by natural cause, without the abrupt climate change, which pushed me a little over the edge of mental stability. Not being in my own house and not sleeping in my own bed also helped confound my normal thinking.

The prolonged heat made me feel as if I were trapped and my life was being threatened. Living through a season of a summer in the desert must take much practice. Several times I saw homeless people sleeping in the bushes along the roads in town and considered that if circumstances forced me to such a plight, I wouldn't prosper for very long.

But all this is just my subjective, moody self, trying to recover from an extended and tiresome stay away. Even in the middle of summer there is much beauty around Palm Springs and the other little towns that hug the mountainous edges of the Coachella Valley.