Ahh... the fact that I can feel the air on my skin reminds me that I am, in fact, alive.
And my whole family thinks I'm crazy for this, too, when I'm in Utah I indeed, miss the 100% humidity of home.

In my year there, I used to sit with my face directly over the humidifier in my room and 
pretend I was at the beach... the beach as I knew it it. Is it that humid at California beaches?
Yes, my skin drinks it in, DRINKS, like don't you understand the pull of my body to this
wonderful green land, this is where I was born, you see, this is where  I was meant to exist
in the feeling of rain storms about to break out all over my body. Like when the tap is rotated
lastly in a shower, and i let the cool water take over where the hot had been, and let my
scalp remember the order of life. like being rained on-- oh, that one i do love, and the feeling
of soaked jeans. Hey, it's refreshing to me. It reminds me that there are forces
keeping me from floating right off the earth. I don't really count on gravity without a little
humidity.

When I fly back from Utah you know you can feel the humidity as soon as
you step off the plane. It swells and surrounds you.

When we drive... I start to feel it in the second day of the three day trip, around St. Louis. 
Start to feel it through the vents and cracks of the cars seals, start to feel the coolness
of mornings, and remember that there's a reason to be awake for them. And the nights are less
silent. The drone returns. I love that drone.