The summer of 2011 is just beginning. The sun is staying out longer and beaming hotter, harder. The scorching wind tangles my hair and brushes over my skin like fingers of silk. Flowers bloom colors only found in nature and those expensive paints artists use to create masterpieces. And the children fill entire streets with bright blue and pink and yellow sidewalk chalk and infectious laughter, rolling bicycles of plastic and chrome, and hoses spurting water that make rainbow holograms in the air. Wearing as little clothes as possible helps the sweat not drench my entire body, and my skin gets darker every day. The beauty that is usually so hidden during the cold months envelopes this city and makes it sparkle like an alternate dimension of larger-than-life plants, dancing suns, music that radiates from trees and the swollen sea filling the streets . . .
