Summer afternoon—summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.
Henry James
It’s hot. Kamloops hot.
Hot as in it’s still 37C/99F at 8:00 in the evening when we’re driving home, having enjoyed supper and play in the park, and a stop to water the dry and thirsty garden.
It’s the kind of hot that wrings you out like a twisted dishcloth, leaving you spent and useless, and a little bit pungent, in the corner of the sink.
It’s the kind of hot for freezies, and hot dogs, and slip-and-slides, and trips to the library, and afternoons spent with books and blankets in the shade.
It’s the kind of hot memories are made of.
And we will make some simple happy grand ones today.
As Ladybug Girl says, hashtag blessed.
Ummmm—your words make me feel the heat on my skin, and remember gorgeous, happy summer evenings of the past!