There are benefits to humidity. Not for living in it; it’s miserable above eighty though oddly livable in the fifties and sixties. Sixty-three in the Chicago area is the perfect temperature. Anyway, the other benefits are the colors. Deeper, lusher colors. And the life. Not this one cricket outside the window but a whole living system. Learning about bugs and then going home and hearing them. It boggled the mind. Birds chirping in the morning. Annoying as hell in my teens and probably even my twenties, but it’s annoyingly alive. There’s a living system you exist in. There’s some kind of living system in Colorado, but it’s much different. It doesn’t envelope or suffocate. You need humidity for that level of coexistence. Instead, it’s just that lonely cricket, waiting for an answer, trying again, waiting again, all night long.

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