Summering in the Carolinas

I had nearly forgotten what a sultry South Carolina summer feels like, having been in the not-quite-so muggy mountain air. I can remember a time when there was only a solitary window unit to get us through the sludge of late summer. Humming away, seemingly only cool if you were in the kitchen and very quiet. The ninety-degree mark used to mean sticky clothes and hushed, dark afternoons spent whispering, pretending, wishing to be outside, running, jumping, shrieking. But now, now the heat seems less oppressive. Maybe because I have no legitimate reason to race through the woods and over the creek, running an obstacle course we had perfected? Perhaps if I did, would the muck of heat swallow me again? It seems just warm enough to feel beachy and appreciate the pool water, cool and crisp. Just last night, a breeze slid onto the front porch for a brief few seconds, hinting of fall, and marshmallows, and crunchy leaves, and hoodies. But then, I thought of the last cannon ball jump of the season, and was sad, another summer would be gone and swimmers would be 6! and 5! next jumps. My fall wish list on hold, wishing time stood still.