Heat and Transience
Aug. 9th, 2004 09:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rejectomorphMy recent speculation that the second half of summer would be mild has thus far proven unfounded. Today, the angry sun baked the fields and made the pine woods sweat resin, the scent of which is hanging in the still air even now. Worse, tonight is not expected to cool down below the mid sixties. Even worse, this pattern will continue for several more days. I shall spend my nights in as much darkness as possible, wearing only the thinnest of clothes. I shall spend my days in restless and soggy sleep, next to the tangled blanket I've pushed aside.
I heard the sound of kids whooping and squealing, some few hundred yards west. I remember doing that on long ago summer evenings as sultry as this. I remember the hot gray pavement under my feet, and the pools of dim light dropping from the street lamps, and the voices vanishing in the pressing sky. It was always fun for a while, and then it always made me sad, and I never knew why. I still don't.
I heard the sound of kids whooping and squealing, some few hundred yards west. I remember doing that on long ago summer evenings as sultry as this. I remember the hot gray pavement under my feet, and the pools of dim light dropping from the street lamps, and the voices vanishing in the pressing sky. It was always fun for a while, and then it always made me sad, and I never knew why. I still don't.
