There is something about the Dog Days of Summer that talks about why I love this time. . .

Heat so hot you're driven indoors
by ten o'clock
But you make it outside anyway
To stand underneath an old shade tree
Where cicadas sing and
Crispy brown shells are easily picked off Low hanging branches and
You stay there waiting for a hot breeze
You know it's high summertime

You stand with hot sand
Between your toes
And in your other hand
An iced cold lemonade
While Gramma beads line your neck and
Water drips down your front
Leaving a trail behind
But you really don't mind
Because it feels so good
You know it's high summertime

A hard bright sun bears down on you
And causes sweat to run
You take shelter on your front porch
And make provisions for ice
Ice on trays
Ice wrapped in wet towels and
Laying them on the floor in front of
Two Oscillating fans
Then you ice your feet anyway
You know it's high summertime