I love it. All the windows are open, my guitars are out of tune from the humidity, when I take my dog out to walk she sniffs that much harder because the moisture makes all those exquisite smells just a little stronger. I come back in with wet hair and use a soft, freshly laundered towel to dry off. The rainwashed breeze is blowing in off the river, and picking up the fragrance of two cypress trees that are growing right next to my building. I'm cleaning up my apartment, and have turned off the dehumidifier because it filled up four hours ago. Everything is delightfully soggy, and my head is buzzing with an oncoming nap. All is fragrance and indolent yumyumosity, just like an early autumn Saturday in a town on the southeast coast should be. I couldn't have prayed for a better day; I lacked the imagination.