The march of the seasons

Wednesday's cold front brought pleasant late-spring weather to Houston today, with clear skies, low humidity and moderate temperatures (into the 50s overnight). We should see the same weather Friday and perhaps Saturday.

I'm enjoying it, because I know that this is probably it as far as pleasant weather is concerned, at least until October (and I'm not the only person who believes this, either). We might get lucky and get another cold front or two before the month is over, but, as everybody in Houston knows, the oppressive, muggy, hazy heat that is summertime in Houston usually begins to set in during the latter days of May. The fact that summer doesn't "officially" begin until the solstice in late June is irrelevant.

And this summer is going to suck. Not merely in the way every Houston summer sucks, either. It's going to *really* suck. I can tell just by how hot it's gotten already; temperatures have been above normal for most of May. We had hardly any mosquito-killing freezes over the winter, which means that the virus-carrying bloodsuckers are going to be swarming with apocalyptic vigor. The hurricane prognosticators are predicting another rough season in the tropics, too. All signs point to a Houston summer that is even more unbearable than normal, if that were possible.

I noticed another sure sign of the arrival of summer today as I was driving home from work: dozens of cars and trucks, with trunks open and tailgates down, were parked alongside the dormitories at the University of Houston. The school year is offically over - commencement is this weekend - and the students (yes, there are actually a handful of UH students who live on campus) are packing up their worldly belongings and moving out.

Speaking of the end of the semester at the University of Houston, earlier this week my father administered his last final exam. Ever.

This August, after well over 35 years as a professor in the Department of Biochemical and Biophysical Sciences, my old man is retiring.