Solar Serenade

The searing heat of summer flays like a blast furnace when the door opens. In the summer we become troglodytes hiding away in the relative coolness of our darkened houses.

Doughy, moon-like flab adheres to our bodies in gobbets because we do not come out until the merciless sun has passed the Prime Meridian. We buy machines to aid us in our quest for the lard-less body, and hide them away in the coolth of our 'caves'. Then we take vitamin D supplements and paint ourselves tan to mimic Sol's healthy rays.

Our pets are nocturnal. We have befriended the owls and mockingbirds, the rabbits and bats. The animals of the daylight have become brazen in their lack of human predators.

We do our work to the light of the summer moon. Even then, the remnant radiation of daylight rises in waves to the night sky, causing the light to shimmer. We pity those who must work when the sun is high, often taking them cool drinks of life-saving water--which does not stay cool very long. The sun dries our clothing but also rapidly rots away anything left outside.

Crops must be planted in the shade and ceaselessly watered. Often they wither before they have been in the ground a day. Those crops which do enjoy the scalding sunlight bear sharp spines and suck water like sponges.

Beware the super-heated desert wind. It can scour the face from an unwary traveler within seconds with its flying grit. It sweeps through off the desert and can lift the roof from a house as well as any tornado. I've seen it happen.

That said, wish you were here...:o)