In the 30+ degree heat today (without humidex) I met a colleague for coffee. On the hot walk over to the coffee shop, I imagined how my iced latte would taste - mmmm.....cool and refreshing. I put in my order, making sure I remembered to specify "decaf" and "skim" (I sometimes forget such important details). It was only as I was handed a steaming mug that I realized I'd forgotten one important word - "iced." And so, in the sweltering heat of almost midday, I sipped my piping hot beverage as I watched my co-worker enjoy an iced coffee.
As I sit at home this evening in the heat, I imagine how nice a cool, refreshing beverage would taste. If only I had some ice. I own ice cube trays, but rarely fill them. Instead they sit empty in my cupboard, taking up space, denied their worldly purpose. On nights like tonight, I am tempted to fill them, but rarely do, knowing the rewards will not come quickly enough to meet my immediate need for cold. I think not of tomorrow (although am seriously considering filling at least one tray).
Who knew that frozen water could hold such wonder, such appeal? In winter, I despise it as it sticks to my windshield and coats the roads and sidewalks. Yet in summer, I treasure it - the way it clinks in the glass, the cool, refreshing feel of it. You are a paradox, ice. Or I am. I shall reflect on that - perhaps over a glass of lukewarm water.