It’s hot and sultry here in Michigan. It’s August just as I remember it when I was a kid…blue skies, intense sunlight, and hot, hot weather. Years ago, when I was 8 or 9 years old, there used to be an ice cream man who walked around our neighborhood pushing a freezer cart and he jingled the bells to let us know that he was on his way. I would run home as fast as possible to ask my mom for some coins so that I could catch up with the ice cream man and buy a push up orange rocket or an ice cream sandwich. I wore light cotton clothes and usually had scabs on my legs from where I scratched mosquito bites or fell off my bicycle. My clothes usually had watermelon stains or popsicle dribbles on them and I’m sure my face was smeared with little dirty streaks.
Things are only a little different today. I’ve cleaned the peach juice off my summer top and my knee has a quarter-sized scab on it from where I fell down in the middle of the street. I wasn’t chasing the ice-cream cart, in case you were wondering. No. I was merely walking along minding my own bees wax when a crack appeared from nowhere and my foot stepped in it. But there’s a big carton of ice cream in my mom’s freezer just waiting for me and I’ll be watching the Tigers play baseball this afternoon.
I call that a pretty perfect August day here in Michigan.