Look, I know that technically the Summer Solstice is tied to the longest day of sunlight in the northern hemisphere.
Coincidentally, that was on Wednesday.
And even though the day marks the official start of summer, I think we’ve been enduring enough heat warnings already.
In fact, I’m well aware of how much summer we’re dealing with right now and how badly I’m wishing for a little rain to take the edge off.
Honestly, I thought that our county commissioners would have already put us on a burn ban by now.
But, science isn’t pointing us in that direction yet.
The amount of watering my mom is doing just to keep up with the bare minimum of her plants’ needs is speaking volumes otherwise.
I do think that the most interesting part about the summer solstice is that it only falls somewhere between June 20-22 at the moment.
But, if the Earth’s axis shifts in a different direction or even further in the same direction it’s in now?
We could see the solstice take on a new calendar date in the future.
All of that aside, I remember a time when summer was actually filled with fun – back when I was a child.
Back then the heat and sunlight didn’t seem to faze us as much and we spent more time with my grandparents than anything else.
I mean, usually, once noon officially hit and the sun was bearing down from overhead trying to kill us, my grandmother made us stay indoors so we didn’t get heat stroke or sunburnt beyond all points of safety.
The only thing to circumvent that boring mandatory requirement was setting up a kiddy pool in the shade of several pecan and oak trees.
Now I admit to never learning proper form or technique in regards to swimming, but in a kiddy pool, all you had to do was sit in the shade and occasionally splash your siblings and just enjoy the chance to be cooled off.
Things only got complicated when the bathroom or lunchtime interrupted everything.
You might be wondering why, but, it was largely in part due to my grandmother not wanting us tracking water indoors and creating possible slip hazards.
Sure, it sounds logical now but at the age of eight or so, it was a point of contention and something I worked on avoiding until the last possible moment.
As we got older, my siblings and I managed to convince her to let us have a towel in the washroom to clean up any puddles as we came in or ran out with snacks or potty breaks.
I can remember how those days spent in and out of the sun all blurred together into one happy childhood memory that spans several years.
It’s just not the same now that we’re all adults and I think the sun is out to kill me more than ever before.
There’s just something so disheartening about opening the door outside and getting a blast of hot air in the face like I’m opening the door to some convection oven.
And really, if it feels like an oven but lacks the delicious smell of baked brownies then I’m not going out!
