"Somehow, it was hotter then: a black dog suffered on a summer's day; bony mules hitched to Hoover carts flicked flies in the sweltering shade of the live oaks on the square. Men's stiff collars wilted by nine in the morning. Ladies bathed before noon, after their three-o'clock naps, and by nightfall were like soft teacakes with frostings of sweat and sweet talcum."To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
This is one of my favorite descriptions of southern summer heat. There's something about it that makes it so romantic and appealing. (The appealing part, I think, is the "soft teacakes with frostings..."). For me, in a Southern frame of mind, it makes me long for the old days when people dressed up daily, ladies really did bathe twice a day as a rule, and the world was a simple place in the summertime.... As Ella Fitzgerald sang it, "Summertime, and livin' is easy..."
Then I step outside on a day like today, a late April day when most of the country is still "suffering" a spring chill, but here in Arkansas it's humid and hot with some semblance of a cool breeze every once in a while (which is still better than in June - September when the only breeze is warm, damp burst of air) and one wilts into a heap of damp clothing and hair as soon as one steps outside the splendor of air conditioned bliss. This is NOT the summer heat I imagine Lee or Ella talking about. How is it possible that they manage to make heat sound romantic? Books and movies such as Gone with the Wind do the same thing...as if it's a romantic notion to be lying around in corsets when it's unbelievably hot outside and without the delicacy of air conditioning to boot... (You read correctly, I did just call air conditioning a delicacy. I have a bad case of being American.)
Maybe people have grown soft. Or maybe Lee was wrong, it wasn't hotter then and it's hotter now. Either way, as much as I love the South, summer is all about escaping the outdoors or finding a cool pool of water somewhere to stifle one's temperature. God help you if you're going on vacation in places even further south than Arkansas during the summer. Places like New Orleans or San Antonio. "Sun"brellas and those personalized fans that blow a fine mist may not be the most popular and appealing accessories, but they have their purposes. (I'm usually too proud to carry either, but really jealous of those who bring them along in the end.)
My Irish friend put it best when he said, "Summer here is not about living, it's about surviving." It's also the reason that he doesn't stick around in the summers, but instead goes back to his homeland to "live". (I'm only slightly jealous.)
I will say this for southern heat and humidity: in the spring (and only rarely in the summer), it brings with it thunderstorms, which are by far my favorite days. (These would be the storms that make noise and rain only, without the threat of tornadoes. That's a different story.) Today is also one of those days. It's unbearably humid outside, and then the clouds start to roll in. The thunder starts in the distance and then makes its way closer. Before you know it, you're sleepy and more comfortable all at once. The thunder is soothing not scary, and you know it will bring with it rain to cool down the air and release the humid buildup that surrounds us. These days are miserable and wonderful all at once and I pray for a whole summer full of them.
My recent trip to Fabulous Las Vegas, which is in the desert I might add, prompted me to write about the heat of the summer. That and the unbelievable humidity I experienced in Arkansas today. Every year the heat strikes me in an abrasive and unexpected wave, like a tsunami. Although it's a reoccurring thing, I don't know that you can ever be fully prepared for it. In Vegas, I expected 80 -90 degree weather with absolutely zero humidity. (I was not disappointed in the humidity, because I was dried out like a sponge the second I stepped out of the airport.) However, even though I had left Arkansas in the wake of the death of spring time, I arrived in Vegas to be cold, wind blown, and dried out. Let me repeat that: it was COLD in Vegas. (Let me remind you, it's in the desert.) WHAT??? (We're not talking subarctic temperatures here. It wasn't freezing. But I had on jeans and a jacket and I was shivering from the wind chill, okay?) Out west, everyone says the same thing about the weather, "but it's DRY heat." That's supposed to make it more bearable, right? I wouldn't know. Because it was cold one day and pleasant the next, dry as bones, by God, but pleasant all the same.
When summer has reached the South, but not the desert...."Houston, we have a problem."
*Disclaimer: I realize it's possible that we happened to be in Las Vegas at a time when the weather was doing odd things. Its plausible. Maybe it had been hot there for days and we just missed it. However, I thought it was ironic that I should visit Vegas (again, the desert) and need layers during the day, when I am trying to figure out how to delicately remove more layers at home. Then again, we might have a snow storm sweep the South tomorrow. You never can tell. Global climate change is turning out to be a beast.
So, all this being said, please visit the Southern state of your choice this summer! We'd love to have y'all! We'll make you some nice cold lemonade or (sweet) tea and let you sit on the veranda/ front porch/ back porch a spell. Try your best not to get too hot, and we'll try our best to make the heat as romantic as possible. ;-)
