Floating down

The dogwood blossoms, now curled and tinged, are floating down, riding  currents that settle them all about my yard.

Summer is soon upon us.

Color has conceded. Green has ascended and so will the sun.

Spring time in Alabama is a struggle: freezing nights followed by days of 80. A start stop that leaves one a little car sick. But, it seems that we have finally  entered the interstate that is summer. And a long, too hot for AC to do enough good, drive is before us: Summer.

The season lasts April to October. It can regularly be 100 degrees and humid, people of the desert. It will bring one to one’s knees and infect the soul. It knows not how to relent.

I am not sure that summer here is a rest or recreation. It feels more a long journey through, one that might take a break at a nice temporary destination: the beach, Disney World, or the mountains! But, it does mean that this grind of school is over.

My daughter’s to be college roommate is from Chicago. She was so excited about the warm. I would be too, if I hailed from Chicago. She rejoiced to Sarah about swimming in outside pools and sunning on the green in September, how good it would feel. Sarah snickered to me reading it. “I told her it would be 100, feel 120 on that windless green. It seemed no distress to her.” I explained that Chicagoan bones take a long time to thaw. Bless this sweet northern child’s heart.

I hope she can see our sauna as something special, spa like, and revive our own appreciation.