And the heat swirled around me, wrapping me once again in its warm ,wet blanket that left you feeling like you had stepped into a pool as large as the lowcountry itself. Bringing with it memories of bologna sandwiches and kool aide in a Dixie cup on and old picnic table, worn silver and shaky by a thousand games of tag and lunches just like this day.
Nearby Magnolia cones covered the ground, some having lost their white blooms, still they made everything smell sweet and earthy at the same time as they waited their turn to be sacrificed to a broomstick in what would be another round of batting practise that had begun at 4 years old and never really ever ended.
The heat formed a dome on our world, it shielded us from the outside as it made every word and movement, measured, calculated and always paid for in sweat and energy. Even sound seemed bend to the summer. Cars, most not having a/c back then were parked until later in the evening when sitting on a naugahide front seat didn't involve second degree burns or some degree of heat stroke. Sound was reduced to cicadas and the laughter of children who despite the sun and summer lived outside all the time until mothers all over the neighborhood would begin their gregorian chant of names that made your friends vanish in a blur of elbows and foot soles. Each trying to desperately make it home before their middle names were invoked or worse yet, the street lights came on. Everyone of them making plans for tomorrow, because there was always another tomorrow, for the next adventure, because everyday was an adventure. Just one more chance at a summer day, in the summer heat of the South, as they drifted, first home for the night and then away for life.