The Back of Summer Is Not Quite Broken Yet

Every year about this time I announce to the family that the back of summer is broken. I don't know how long I've been saying it, but I think it dates back about a decade when we were living without benefit of air conditioning. Our stone house had tile floors, ceiling fans everywhere, rooms with windows that opened on both sides, and westerly shade from a massive live oak.

That being said, 98 degrees and humid is hot regardless. I'd go to bed at that house all through July, August and the first part of September with the big box fan blowing right on me, and not so much as a sheet for cover. I'd wake up with the sheet pulled cocoon-like around me because I'd gotten cool in the wee hours.

But as summer grudgingly gives way to autumn, instead of it being 88 or 90 degrees during the 10 o'clock news, the night cools down to the low 80's or even the 70's. The daytime highs, which hovered all summer near 100, top out in the low 90's, or even less.

I walked out of the house to my truck early last Friday and my digital thermometer explained the slight nip in the air: it was just 66 degrees. I haven't seen those kind of temps since early May. Man, I love that kind of weather.

Here in the hill country of Texas the last round of really bright Crape Myrtle blooms are everywhere. The purple gay feather plumes stick up a couple of feet around fenceposts, or wherever they escape the lawnmower blades.

The harbinger of the greatest weather though is the Maximillian Sunflower. It's not blooming yet because it's still too hot. These guys sprout up about 3 feet tall on roadsides all over the place. They're native, so they take no effort. As a Texan though, I know that when I see them life's no longer a sweatbath. We'll turn off the air conditioner, open up the windows and let the house breathe.

I expect next week will come my announcement to the family that the back of summer has officially broken. 'Til then, there are still a few 95-degree days to suffer through.