Dog Days

This time of year is always the same to me. It's sun, it's haze, and it's hazy memories. In fact I don't have any strong memories associated with these dog days of summer. Nothing much good has ever happened to me, and nothing much bad. End of Summer, transition time. The crisp cool days of Fall and all the movement of youth suggested by that season await us. But until then there's this last gritty nub of heat, washed out skies, and sticky skin to grind through. Okay, sounds good to me.