At 7:00 p.m., the thermometer on the back porch reads 110 degrees…and it’s overcast.
Matter of fact, the reason it’s still 110 probably is the cloud cover: clouds hold heat on the surface. Otherwise it would dissipate upward through the atmosphere after the sun goes down.
Interestingly, some years ago, when I was writing for Arizona Highways, I came across a 19th-century diary written by a woman who, with her husband, settled in the bottom of Aravaipa Canyon, where they had a little dirt farm. You would think that if one of those pioneers could come back today and tell us what life was like under such circumstances, she’d tell us it was seven kinds of Hell.
But no. If you believe what she told her diary (and why wouldn’t you?), they loved their life out there in the middle of nowhere. It was one big, nonstop adventure for them in a strange new world, as bizarre as the surface of Mars would be to us.
At one point she reported with awe that a midsummer day had been amazingly hot: 101 degrees in the shade!
Oh, horrors! Today we’d think that was a balmy day. Here in the Time of Heat Bubbles and Global Warming, 110 in the shade is par for the course. It’s a pretty normal day in a Phoenix summer.
I can remember when 110 was an unusually hot day, myself. When I moved here, back in the dark ages of 19-and-aught-62, the hottest part of the summer was typically around 103 to 105. A 110-degree day was extremely hot.
But of course, you and I know there’s no such thing as climate warming. Cause science is fake. All fake.
Banner image of the day: Deposit Photos, © tomwang