Now that we are in mid-August, in some locations, summer is noticeably dwindling. Kids are back in school, yellow buses lumbering through neighborhoods, football practice and schedules gearing up, State Fairs barely wrapped up, swimming pools either being drained or covered in preparation for cooler weather. Here in Tucson, we have had quenching summer monsoons which dropped the temperature comfortably but raised the humidity horribly. For residents in a climate of ‘dry heat’ as we call this, are not used to sweaty foreheads and armpits when leaving the house. To get, we give. For instance, the surrounding Catalina Mountain Range looks like green cliffs in Brazil, jagged rock with layers of greens, rich and luscious. It doesn’t take much if you have an imagination, but the colors and tones summer rains bring are well noted from any distance here in the Old Pueblo.
Seasonal change is accountable and reliable, and for me, that bridge—one leaving to allow for another—between each inspires me to sit and write about our desert region, or the mid-west where I was raised, our summers of fishing in the Mississippi and Illinois rivers, fresh mown lawns, sleepovers in tents strung up haphazardly in a back yard, picnics and cloud watching.
Scattered throughout our book, there are tidbits of these seasons from the past, current, and inspirations they bring to mind and to the page.
What was a high point over your summer vacation?