It’s Thursday evening, and the second heavy rain in three days over our city. Again, I hear the sirens. Am for the second Time this week, happy that we don’t have a basement, the can run full. Go again from window to window, barricade everything. It thunders. Flashes in the sky. A few days ago one of has taken in front of the house of my parents in a good 250 years old oak tree and the trunk in the fork split.
Jennifer Wiebking
editor in the Department “life,” the Frankfurt General Sunday newspaper.
F. A. Z.
the summer of this year: the heat is on several consecutive days so unbearable that I open myself only when it is really necessary. And because the storms that are so violent, that I am every Time one happens, glad to be nowhere stranded. Both these factors mean that I’ll have the summer now, otherwise true. I suddenly have respect for him. Maybe even fear.
Clearly, the past summer were not relaxed unconditionally. The consequences of climate change are already real, I saw the yellow meadows on the Banks of the rivers with low water Levels. I read of the concern to the local forest and of the countries against which our self with the 2019er-record heat of 40 degrees plus more and more a destination for the summer fresh urgency.
anxiety instead of the joy of life
But summer meant food anyway, ball way, pistachio ice cream, until late in the evening on the beer benches in front of Restaurants to sit and tipsy from the Aperol Spritz. The joy of living and heat-related to me just yet. A certain amount of Weather for the garden party was not, by the way as wrong. And after work, nothing like going to the swimming pool.
last week, it was not even as hot as the hottest days of the year 2019. Only, I’m in this, after all, almost as hot days and more tropical distracted nights, perhaps so. Due to Corona, and my eight-month-old child less appointments. ‘ve planned, no invitations to great feasts, and no summer vacation. Instead, the self-selected output restrictions follow the restrictions in the spring now in the summer because it is just unbearable. And the diffuse feeling that the summer offers more cause for concern than joy, that the last carefree summer, could have been in the past, is at once more concrete.
