Hot weather phrases

This page seems to be one of the most popular, and below I promised to keep adding to it. And I am keeping that promise. Check back periodically; often I’ll come up with a memory or some experience will remind me of something to write. Meanwhile I’ll leave the original post intact, and continue to add to it at the bottom.

As you read, please remember that this blog and all the material in it is copyrighted, as words are my work. There is a certain degree of craftsmanship which I exercise before posting; what you see here isn’t the result of idle time on a rainy Saturday but hard work. Please respect the work I have put into this material by not copying it without my permission. Yes, my work is for sale; my rates are more than reasonable.


With the hot weather suddenly upon us this year, I came up with a few good phrases to describe things. I’ll continue to add as inspiration strikes. Now to just find a place to use them; perhaps in the noir novel I’ve been contemplating:

“The sun snapped off the brightwork of the cars, slashing at my eyes with broken, unfiled fingernails.”


“The car rolled past on the dirt road, leaving dust that hung in its wake like the short silence that follows the statement: ‘I’m pregnant.'”


“I stepped outside into the bright sunlight and into Nebuchadnezzar’s furnace. The physical pressure of the raw sunlight searing my skin was accompanied in my head by the same loud buzz given off by an arc welder.”


“As I stepped off the porch and into the sun, I felt as if I had stepped bodily into an oven set to BROIL. The heat of the day was already bad, sapping any energy I had to spare, but stepping into the sunlight was far worse. The sun was so intense I actually looked at my arm to see if my flesh was crisping under its relentless rays.”


“I stepped into the open blast furnace of the street. Ambition and energy evaporated in the searing torrent of heat in the space of two breaths, as surely as if I were Superman with a rock of green Kryptonite suddenly hung about my neck.”


“Once off the bottom step, and into the street, I looked up. Everywhere the relentless heat colored my vision: robbing all things and people of life and detail. People drifted by me, hiding in loose shapeless clothing, under broad-brimmed hats; they eased past like random dust motes shaken loose from a curtain. Almost all social and romantic interest between man and woman quickly withered to ash in the heat, leaving us passing each other with only quiet greetings. On the few occasions where parties could muster the energy for extended speaking, that social interaction took place only after finding the nearest shade. Even the normal shouting and play of children was muffled into only occasional brief exclamations.”


“Sunrise brought the calefaction of the nuclear furnace that today seemed much closer than 93 million miles away. The light rolled over the land, first bringing illumination to the gentle, cool sigh of the morning; and then … the Sun stepped above the horizon and bore down with the totality of its fury. The coolness of the morning evaporated in sheer terror of the coming torture of the day.”


“The workday had gone quickly today; arriving very early in the morning, I’d expected to shift my work time so I was free for the afternoon. The predawn had been cool enough to raise goose bumps as I’d walked to the door. Everything outside had promised a mild, benign afternoon; all day I’d anticipated the independent joy. Striding  to freedom with a spring in my step, I flung open the door. Propelled outward by the gust of cool air from within, I was welcomed by sparkling sunlight and the promise of a beautiful afternoon.

It all changed in an instant. The cool air, which had coddled me outward, now surrendered me without a fight to the incandescent afternoon. The sparkling sunlight suddenly turned diamond-hard in its reflections, and all sidewalks and buildings became igneous in their reflective heat.”


“I could suddenly smell it: that hint that the weather was finally going to break. I  realized that I had gotten used to the tickling scent of dust in my nostrils, now that it had been suddenly changed and made vivid in character by the moisture from the oncoming storm. The sky had already darkened, but the heat of the day wasn’t giving up so easily.

Then it came, first with a whispering breath of cool moisture. Somewhere just beyond direct perception, was the earth giving a gentle sigh of relief, and it was heading my way. The mist brushed across my face, gentle as a lover’s caress, and with just as much promise.

Thunder rumbled somewhere indistinct in the distance, the storm cell doggedly approaching, marching, approaching; muttering to itself in its determination.

Then … a raindrop. And another. They fell only just here and there, making little puffs of dust hop up from the parched earth.

Now in the distance came a gentle murmuring of rain, as the storm cell approached. The sound was like applause, far away.

The raindrops were still only here and there, the grim scouts of the oncoming storm. Gradually their reinforcements began to arrive: thousands of their friends, all relentlessly attacking the dust – that infernal tan dust which had settled everywhere; always present and every bit as unwanted as a too-long stay from an annoying relative.

The rain relentlessly pounded the dust; a charging army bent on vanquishing an archenemy. The puffs of dust that raised themselves in dogged resistance were gradually beaten down, leaving behind a sticky humidity. But this too, eventually began to succumb under the sedulous onslaught.

Victory for the rain came with the dust fleeing from every surface in muddy rivulets. As the curse of the dust fell from the air with the rain’s ionization, hearts everywhere lifted in quiet thanks. Some acknowledged the Creator’s hand in the rain (for it falls on both the just and unjust alike), and others were thankful merely to be able to breathe again without inhaling that … awful … tan dust.”


With one leash per hand, I started down our long gravel road. My Golden Retriever stampeded out ahead of me, slamming to the far end of the leash with the expected jerk. He’s learned how much ‘yank’ at the end of the leash I will tolerate and stays just within its upper limit. My old best-friend, the Shetland Sheepdog, shambled along companionably in his favorite walking spot next to me, keeping the slack in the leash just as he liked it. The sun was just over the horizon now, and I could see the last of the morning mists disappearing from the meadows. Emerging from the shade with the sun at our backs, I could feel its heat on my neck. Far more insistent than welcome, it foretold a hot, uncomfortable afternoon.

My old Shetland Sheepdog paused at the side of the lane and hunched backward with a long, protracted groan. I knew just how he felt; we all get older, and the ‘plumbing’ begins to work more slowly. Meanwhile my Golden was plowing the dewy grass on the far side of the lane with his nose, looking for scents of bunnies to possibly chase. His “Golden Retriever A.D.D.” caused him to forget that his leash was held by one who would not tolerate any funny-business.

Matching our pace to my old best-friend, we arrived at the end of the road. As I pulled the morning’s news from its box, the Golden was unusually drawn toward the paved main roadway, whether by sight or scent of ‘something interesting’. It took only a quiet warning to him for him to get back to the safety of my side; way out here in the country, death comes suddenly out of the silence.

Coming back up the road, I could smell the dust beginning to rise as the morning’s dew dried. The sun remained uncomfortably warm on my face, reminding me to open the windows in the house while there was still time to cool things off before the afternoon heat. I could hear the tickling sound of an approaching car; luckily we would reach our driveway before it came round the corner above. Lucky it was, as the oncoming missile was the infamous gray Toyota which roared by in an uncaring torrent of flying gravel and leaving in its self-centered and self-preoccupied wake a thick, heavy pestilence of dust which would hang in the air for a dozen minutes afterward.

I hurled quiet curses after the selfishness, roaring onward into the distance, and turned to go in.


“The sun crackled angrily from the windshields of the cars on the highway, like the evil grin of a predator who already knew he had me weakened and in a corner.”


“I stepped from relative comfort outside, and right into what felt like the furnaces of Hell. It was so bad that I instantly resolved to listen better in church. For I was reminded that the best things of this life here on Earth are but a dim shadow of Heaven, then so must the worst things here on Earth be only a shadow of the worst things conceived as Hell.”


“Shakespeare likened sunlight to the eye of heaven, but on this day it was more like the wrathful stare of Sauron, the evil wizard.”


“The coolness of the morning stabbed at me, its threat of frostbite akin to that of a distracted child with a butter knife. As much as anything, this idle threat of a morning chill signified a really warm day coming.”


“I lifted my head momentarily, and a stray shaft of light from the rising sun played momentarily across my eye. I could suddenly see highlighted before me the spider web of blood vessels in my retina.”


“I sat there reading, thinking that I was in the shade and therefore immune from most of the heat. In a few moments, my skin began to prickle from my body trying to hold onto its precious water, rather than waste it as sweat. It grew more and more uncomfortable as my core temperature began to climb. Finally a trickle of sweat ran into my eye, but my limbs were now all pins-and-needles. I quickly downed some cold water, and as it finally entered my system, the discomfort in my limbs began to ease … and I began to feel my shirt sticking to my chest and back.”


“As a kid, I never knew how in heaven’s name the old folks knew it to be so when they’d say, “It’s going to be a hot one today.” They could never explain it to my satisfaction.

Now that I have some sixty years of experience, I was surprised to hear myself saying to my wife the other day, “It’s going to be a hot one today”. And with the sudden, startling connection with the present to the past in my mind, I suddenly knew: I had become worthy to possess and to wield one of The Great Secrets of Life. 

But at the same time, I am aware that I will never be able to relate exactly how I know.”


“I rubbed my hand across the stubble on my chin, noticing that my shave this morning was terrible. The heat changes the character of your skin, and it’s impossible to get a good shave.”


“It had been so hot for so long that even the roadway was sweating little dots of tar. As the car rolled along on the country road, the tires made a cacophony of little smacking sounds, like a hundred irritated teachers all tut-tutting at the same time.”


“The day’s heat had penetrated the kitchen so thoroughly that the bacon grease in the canister had changed from its usual solid state into that of a watery fluid. Long gone were the scoop marks in the congealed fat where the reservoir of goodness had been tapped. The shining depths now rippled with every footfall.”


“My watch band began to chafe, due to the amount of salty sweat that had accumulated under it. For now, all I could do was loosen it a couple notches and slide it up my arm, as I didn’t want to lose it.”


“I opened the car door, where I’d felt like an ant under a magnifying glass, and stepped out into an afternoon that was as hot as incandescent titanium.”


“With sun-soaked slowness, I made my way to the car. Opening the door, I was greeted by the breath of the Devil: the heat poured out of the car, tinged strongly by smells from the dog blanket in the back seat.”


“I dropped gratefully into the car after a long day’s work. Instead of relief at being able to sit down and finally head home, I found that I was the cake in the Easy-Bake Oven and the sun was an Oscar-winner in its role as the light bulb.”


“The morning was comfortable but foretold of a hot day to come. Sure enough, as the sun rose from behind the mountain, a wave of warm air came along with the light. It was barely noticeable at first, but as the corona of the sunlight rolled across the land, it went from warm to insistent heat, to the type of discomfort that forces you to seek shade.”


“The sunrise was Biblical in its grandeur; full of light, shadows, sunbeams, and terrible portent of what would likely be the hottest day of the year. Every breath brought the taste of dust, even in the morning’s calm.”


“I began to wash dishes, even though the kitchen was stifling hot from the summer sun. I yelped in pain from the scalding sting of the hot water – even though it was the same temperature that I could easily tolerate on cooler days.”


5 thoughts on “Hot weather phrases

    • These are posted as the inspiration comes; I doubt there will ever be any shorter.


      This is a copyrighted blog, not twitter. However if you care to employ me as a writer to create something within your needs, that’s what I do. PM me at the link here.

  1. Thanks for those good phrases. I would like you to pose some phrases on weather for instance, phrases regarding raining days etc.

    • Good suggestion; and I’ve done so. You can find the result by using the search feature and entering “Rainy Day Phrases”.

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