Summer Solstice in a Different Climate

We are still a few hours away from the official summer solstice, which occurs at 10:58 a.m., Eastern time.  Here in the mountains of North Carolina, it's more like chilly spring.  We have yet to turn on the AC; in fact, last week we had the heat on for a few minutes, just to take the chill off the air.

Let me be clear that I am not complaining.  My spouse complains about the lack of blazing heat and sun, but I like being able to take a walk in the afternoon without melting.  I like being able to get in the car without feeling like I'm suffocating for the whole trip because the car's AC can't get rid of the heat that builds up when a car sits in a parking space for an hour or two in the daylight.

I thought about this location that we've chosen as I read David Pogue's How to Prepare for Climate Change:  A Practical Guide to Surviving the Chaos.  Part of the book talks about deciding to move to a safer climate.  Pogue recommends the Pacific Northwest or the Great Lakes.  He also lists about 14 specific cities, all of them a bit cold for me, at this time of climate warming.  

But we've chosen a good spot.  I almost said we've accidentally chosen a good spot, but it wasn't an accident at all.  I've been thinking about this issue for at least 20 years, as it became clear that South Florida has some severe disadvantages as a spot to weather climate change or the lack of oil, which is the lens through which I first started having these thoughts.  

Pogue suggests we think about 4 things:  moving inland, moving north, being near fresh water, and finding a place with good infrastructure.  Pogue might think we're not far enough north, but it's far enough to escape the heat that worries Pogue.  We are near a huge lake and the French Broad River, plus Lutheridge itself has a lake.  So far, we also get a lot of water in the form of rain, which will be less and less true of much of the southeast in the coming years.

I am less sure about the infrastructure, but the fact that the population is less and more spread out is a good thing.  The roads seem in good shape, as do the power lines and the internet access.  The great December ice storms may have made me wonder about the water, but the city of Asheville did a great job of keeping us informed as the crisis was unfolding, and they did a great job of figuring out resources for those affected.

I read most of the book yesterday afternoon, even though a lot of it doesn't pertain to me anymore.  I have always loved disaster prepping narratives.  Even as a child, I loved books about being lost in the wilderness and needing to find a way to survive.  Hopefully, my life won't come to that, but life in Florida, particularly after a hurricane, resembled that narrative more than I wanted to live anymore, particularly as we got older.

In the past, I've written summer solstice posts about summer pleasures, in part as a way of remembering that there were some to be claimed, even as the season wore me out.  Let me think about summer pleasures in a new way this year--this season will be fleeting, I suspect, and I'll need to make the most of it while it's here.  That said, I'm looking forward to seeing how the seasons shift here in the North Carolina mountains.  Last year, I got a glimpse, but I was in D.C. for the most part.

For me, the pleasures of summer revolve around food, particularly melons and tomatoes and corn.  A week ago, I started looking at community swimming pools, and I've kept a swimsuit out of a box in the hopes that we'll get in a swim or two.  I'd like to go to an evening outside concert at the NC Arboretum.  And I'm going to have to do much of this later in July, when I'm done with the seminary class that I'm taking.

Maybe by then, it will be warmer; if last year is an indicator, that's when we get the most summerlike weather, in later July and early August.