The weather fairy is not paying attention. Here it is, the Saturday of the first holiday weekend of summer she forgot to throw a wet wooly blanket of heat and humidity over the city. Instead we had showers last night to wash everything off, and today we've got clear blue skies, that drenching sunshine that bangs the edges of everything into preternatural sharpness, and cool dry breezes.
Porch weather. All the windows open. One of the neighbors is vacuuming his sitting room and blasting Frank Sinatra. Bright white t-shirts glowing in the shade, young men hang out by the elementary school across from the Clay Street Market. Ladies are getting their hair done outside. I see one group of women doing beauty shop on a deep porch. Another woman has moved a kitchen chair out to a shady spot on the sidewalk. Her friend stands behind her and weaves her hair into tiny braids. Little girls watch and play, flitting around them like dragonflies.
164 words | May 29, 2004 07:19 PM | Real true story