Summer Heat

It’s here. Late July and days on end with heat in the nineties. Standard for this part of the country.

Others complain about the heat, but it makes me feel at home. For thirteen years I spent more time in Vietnam than I did in the states. I got so used to the subtropical climate that it felt normal to me. Like most Americans—and unlike the native Vietnamese who covered their bodies so they wouldn’t develop darker skin tone—I went shirtless whenever I could and got very tan. My time in the states felt unnatural—never warm enough.

All these years later, my adaption to warm weather sticks with me. During the winter, I bundle up more than others, and I welcome the heat of summer like I’m back where I belong.

And I make a point of getting enough sun to tan. I’m naturally very pale, almost dead white. To look normal, I get out in the sun as much as I can at all seasons. In the summer, I wear as few clothes as possible. As a result, I end up looking like everybody else.

My glory days are the hottest part of the summer. I’m in my element. Unfortunately, they don’t last. I know that in less than two months the weather will start to cool. As much as I love the Fall with all its color, I dread the oncoming cold. Winter, with its short, bleak days and long cold nights, will keep me close to the fireplace. And my skin will pale back toward dead white.

So I make the most of each passing day, getting out of doors at every opportunity. I eat all my meals in the sun on my deck, weather permitting. I read outdoors. I go for walks.

It’s my time of year.

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