Whittling Away with Dick Brooks - Summer Days

It’s one of those hot summer days I was dreaming of during the throes of the miserable winter we just survived.  It’s 93 degrees, not a leaf moving and the humidity is hovering around a hundred and thirty percent.  The heat index is over a hundred, like I really needed to know that.  What was I thinking of during that January snow storm?  I should have just enjoyed the cold and snow instead of complaining.  You can bundle up and shovel fairly comfortably, no way am I going to mow the lawn like I had planned to do today.  I have peeled off all the outer clothing that decency will allow me to peel without frightening the dog and offending the neighbors.  The fan I’m sitting in front of isn’t drying the perspiration, just moving it around from place to place.  I’d feel sorry for myself if it wasn’t for Telly, my trusty canine companion.  I can’t imagine running around with that thick fur coat.  The solution is just down the road.  We scurry from the relative coolness of the house through the steam bath waiting for us outside the kitchen door and hop into our trusty Kia.  I didn’t know that Kia made saunas!  It’s about two hundred degrees in there.  I grab the key and insert it before the blisters start to form.  The engine fires and I flip the heater switch to the artic setting and turn the fan up full force. I crack the windows to let some of the hot air out. 

Just before the little button on my chest pops out like the one on the Thanksgiving turkey, the air starts to cool.  I send a quick mental thank you to the unknown soul who had the wisdom to think of installing air conditioning in cars and using part of my shirt as a pot holder, I shift into drive and we’re off.  Five minutes later, we arrive at our destination, the little park next to the river.  The air is cooler and there’s a soft breeze coming off the river.  Telly doesn’t waste any time doing his usual bush, tree and rock sniff and tinkle but heads right for the water.  He dashes in, swims a bit, runs out, shakes and heads right back in.  I sit on a log and envy him.  Being psychic soul mates, he swims back to shore, walks up beside where I’m sitting and delivers about three gallons of cooling water to my exterior with one good shake.  He heads back to the river for another load and continues his soak and shake routine until I’m almost as wet and cool as he is.  He finally tires and lies on the sand near me.  We sit there in the cool shade smelling the river and watching the sun sparkles as it flows slowly towards far away places.  The hot sticky humid nasty day is gone, replaced by the peace of a shady favorite place, the tranquility of slowly moving water and the company of a truly good friend.  Hot, sticky, tired, troubled?  I’d recommend a sit near the river for a half and hour or so.  Don’t have a friend to do it with?  Call me, we’ll take Telly.  He’ll cool you too.  You’ll like him.

Thought for the week—Why is it called “after dark” when it’s really “after light”?

Until next week, may you and yours be happy and well.

Whittle12124@yahoo.com