Favorite Words

     I would like to write about estivate, a word with a lovely meaning but unfortunate tone that encourages a sneer when spoken. It’s close to estrous, and in fact the two have some common origins involving the concept of being in heat. It makes one want to say something like, Don’t mind Sally, she’s estivating, though of course that’s far off the mark on more than one level. Here's a better idea of its meaning:

      The word hibernate, sister to estivate, elicits the opposite sort of thoughts. Hibernate, with its long vowels, is picturesque on its own. Its syllables sound like high, as in high country, and hide, and brrrrr, all of which are things that bears do in winter. There is also natal at the end, a bear activity at winter’s dénouement, the moms emerging around the time of the mountain azaleas with sleepy looking balls of fur stumbling behind.

       Estivation, on the other hand, is often practiced by snails, which spend much of the summer hidden in a state of torpor to avoid the slime-drying sun, emerging only as the heat subsides. Sound familiar?  It’s what I do in summer, minus the slime. That’s why I spend a lot of time peering out windows – including my air-conditioned cubicle-on-wheels, which I consider a legitimate human adaptation that any snail or amphibian would gladly use if only it could keep from sliding off the seats. 

     Like most Arizonans who have a choice, I emerge just after dawn or before sunset; animals that do this are crepuscular. Two posts ago I mentioned a crepuscular dawn, which is not redundant but refers to dark and light striations: the shafts of light. Snails are often crepuscular or nocturne, for the same reason that they estivate. Desert squirrels – those mini ones who pop out at the Phoenix Zoo and enjoy animal crackers – estivate as well.

       But now I’m in Monterey for the weekend, visiting my daughter, and it’s suddenly like Arizona winter – with more water. That’s not a bear on the rocks but a California ground squirrel. He's a hefty guy twenty inches and one-and-a-half pounds, who knows how to have a good time.