The air was so thick with moisture it draped over and around me like a second skin. It was hot and it was hard to breath. I was trudging through the marsh toward the mountains being careful not to step on any of the hundreds of spotted salamanders swimming in the vernal pools. Dragon flies are swooping and darting everywhere landing and resting on me just for a moment then fluttering away in a blur. An Oriole belts out his chirping tune while bobbing, clenched to a reed too thin to support his hefty build. None of these creatures seem to be bothered by the oppressive heat and humidity. So why am I?