I remember the ice that threw me into the frozen monkey grass; I dwell on the slushy snow that—no matter what—gets into my shoes. Sneaky weather! I seem to remember a persistent icicle that chose to freeze to the tip of my nose for most of December, January, February, maybe a little of March. Too many occasions of heavy jackets, wool socks of all things, and thinking about how quickly I can get into and out of our back door before the furnace kicks on.
The open honesty of summer, I'll take it every time, even when the grass turns brown. I of course crank up the A/C and drink plenty of liquids. Every possible moment that I can, I perch in my old rusty green swing, on the back porch, and make my own breeze. Spend time loving my songbirds and singing praises when the hummers come. I glory in the color and lush beauty in my back yard, I thank God that He has put splendor everywhere to give my eyes a long hard drink.
When the hot weather comes, I feel akin to a big overgrown morning glory and in the bright sunny mornings, I gently unfold and drink in all of God's handcrafted beauty, but I must say just as my flower friend fades, by late afternoon I began to fold away also. So if possible I open my window take pleasing deep breaths of Kentucky air (wet or dry), turn on the overhead fan, and I'm gone, for a few moments. Twilight revives me and I enjoy the fireflies for a while, listen to the summer night sounds, and inhale summer aromas (blossoms, fresh cut grass, Bar-B-Q). So silly, but I experience a sadness right at Summers' very beginning, I long so for summer to hang around a bit longer every year.
So how do I stand the heat, I wrap myself in the music of summer, give thanks for my thawing bones, enjoy all of the brightness, and swing away.
Actually, you might say, it's a thought process and I think I love it!