During the cooler months, there’s the summer that lives nostalgic in our minds. Thoughts of plump strawberries and wading pools swim about. Idealizing lazy days tending garden and nights of front porch sitting circle around a few times too.
At first when it comes, the summer is all that we’d hoped for. Strolling through parks with sandal covered feet we pass through May and then June comes too. The solstice is marked and July strikes. Now we’re pointed straight towards the sun whose heat feels like it's here to stay. The grasses turn from vibrant true greens into a crunchy yellowish brown as the air conditioner struggles to keep up. It’s just one ozone action day after the next.
If you are looking for a sympathy for having lost your spot in the shade and want to pick up a little hope you might check out a copy of Come on Rain by Karen Hesse and Jon J. Muth.
The prose captures the oppression of midsummer while singing one girl’s refrain for reprieve so well it makes you sweat as you read. You reach out for a glass of iced tea as an involuntary response to Jon Muth’s water colored pictures.
Mama lifts a listless vine and sighs.
Cats pant, heat wavers off tar patches in the broiling alleyway.
A creeper of hope circles ‘round my bones. “Come on rain!” I whisper.
Well, this is more like it.
If you find that you hear the sound of thunder when there isn't any as you carry a sloshing can of water towards your drooping plants or even wonder if it would be indecent to wear a swimsuit on your commute, you might share this with a child as you both cry out for rain.
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