Dear July


I want to like you, I really do. But the snap, crackle and pop that go on for days and sends smoke into the air, air that's already hard to breathe. And there's something about weeks of your relentless heat that sucks the vitality out of me. I want to be in my yard to admire the blooms without the sweltering sun beating down on my back. I want to meander, pausing often to listen without heat exhaustion. Now, it's true that your heat has helped my tomato plants thrive and the sunflower stalks are flourishing in your bright light. The bees are delighting in a flurry of blossoms that can only peak with the heat and the sun. I suppose I must mention your incredible skyscapes, the shape-shifting cumulous and whispy cirrus, the breathtaking sunsets in tangerine and pink. Oh July, you do try to captivate my senses. You are bold and vibrant, you make a mid-summer statement. But, I'm ready to shift towards cooler weather which won't be happening until after August. So, I'll do my best to ride the heat wave, sipping iced beverages under balmy shade. I'll get out early to admire the yard, spend time in cool canyons and reservoirs. And perhaps next year when you roll back around, I'll be more prepared with a plan to leave town.