My hometown, the City of Lakes, by August carried prairie furnace temperatures on its shoulders. Sans conditioned air we moved the sauna atmosphere through our houses with window fans and our famed Minnesotan positivism. “Sure is hot, huh?” “Ja, but I bet its hotter elsewhere, ya know.” Texas was my next summer cook out. Air Force basic training in late July through August. San Antonio’s cockroaches simmered in the nighttime swelter. Stepped on one, one night, and he laughed and decried, “Is that the best you can do?” Next would be the Sand Hills of North Carolina. Fayetteville was hot and dead; no breath from either the mountains or the sea. I learned the drawl was a side effect of the sun and the oppressive heat, y’all. Nothing moves fast when it’s cooking on the stove. Enid is where I first learned about Wind Heat Index. True. A wind blowing at temperatures above your body’s own will cause you to feel hotter! And some mornings we would have twenty five knots of flame-throwing joy careening past us straight from the Red River Valley. Needles was needless. One hundred thirty when I arrived mid-afternoon. One hundred thirty when I checked out of Needles at three in the morning. Adios, Death Valley Days! Other spots I could add – New Orleans, Gulfport, and places less storied. Now Orlando; though for us it’s been quite temperate in comparison. A sea breeze if you please. Blessed heat, I won’t complain. Far from snow shoveling and back strain. Bring on the Dog!
Sun’s weight heavy now
dogged with summer’s heat we are
Mockingbird sings sweet
dVerse ~ Poets Pub
Haibun Monday #17: It’s Too Darned Hot!