The Drugging Sun

July 3, 2012

They call it the caldo africano, the torpor that has overtaken us. “The sun,” writes Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa, “[is] the true ruler of Sicily; the crude, brash sun, the drugging sun, which annul[s] every will . . .”

I sit at the beach trying to write, but every time I look at my laptop, I get sleepy. Caffeine doesn’t help. I stare out in the direction of Malta.

Espresso on a Sicilian Beach, copyright Jann HuizengaI am like this boat, too listless to do its job.  I’ve developed a passion for the nap, n’abbiamu in Sicilian—literally, “the throwing of oneself upon the bed”—and cannot wait till afternoon when I will fall into a comatose sleep thick as honey.

Blue Boat, copyright Jann Huizenga

Why is this woman not seeking shade? Has she fallen asleep over her book?

Sicilian Woman Reading on Beach, copyright Jann Huizenga

This fellow still has the energy to languidly rub olive oil over his muscles. Because he is not bronzed enough.

Sicilian Man on Beach, copyright Jann Huizenga

But the only one on the beach who seems to be wholly awake is the sister rushing out to sea.

Sicilian Nun on the Beach, copyright Jann Huizenga

Is that a bikini rolled up in her hand?

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Happy Fourth of July!!!

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