This last month, though, temperatures steadfastly rose north before reaching 35C across some parts of Poland. Swelteringly hot, if you ask me.
So, when torrential rains lashed Poznań on June 22 and flash floods swamped the streets as a direct consequence, despite the deluge-induced damage — reported later to have run into millions of złotys — people were seen welcoming the relief rainstorms brought.
In my neighborhood, toddlers, preschoolers and preteens were beside themselves with joy and excitement. The reason: at least a foot-deep pool of water nearly half the size of a football field. Kids splashed about the “lake” for hours after the heavy downpour had subsided.
The sight, among others, was reminiscent of my childhood. I remember — invariably and deliberately — waddling through the biggest puddles on the way back home from the school bus stop. Over the decades, remnants of that time have shown up occasionally. I (still) kick a stone down the road while walking to a nearby supermarket or precariously and painstakingly try to balance myself on the raised edge of a pavement farthest from the street with a phone in one hand and a light shopping bag in the other.
However, on the 22nd — because I reckon it’s flagrantly inappropriate to jump into a pool of water with kids in it (even without, on second thoughts, for a 35-year-old) — I had to rein the child in me.