Bittersweet Rememberings

We're in the middle of a heat wave here in Illinois.  Temperatures each day threaten to reach the mid-nineties, and with the high humidity, the heat indices hover between 100-115 degrees.  To be sure, I was not meant to be a pioneer woman.  I dread venturing out, even to reach my car, instead preferring the comfort of my well-insulated, air-conditioned home.  Which, by the way, we keep at a comfy 71 degrees, because "Indiana likes it that way."  Hah.

When I stepped out into the heat yesterday morning, I was first struck by the stickiness.  It was oppressive, even at 8am.  But the next thing I noticed was the distinct smell of a balmy day.  I think heat and humidity bring out the "greenness" in the vegetation, so you smell the trees, the grass, the flowers even more than usual. 

Stepping out into the green outdoors yesterday took me back into a moment (or actually, several moments) in time.  I was suddenly transported to a lush green courtyard in Tampa, Florida.  It smelled of vegetation, of grass, and of gardenias.  I was in high school, or college, and I was staying with my aunt and uncle in their Florida home.  I stayed with them several times once I got old enough to travel alone, and I relished those trips.  They were the highlight of my year.  My Aunt Carole was one of my favorite people in the world, and during those trips, we were best friends, taking day trips, going shopping, going to Busch Gardens. 

Now my aunt is gone.  All I have left are memories.  So even though the heat is oppressive, and uncomfortable, it does take me back to those happy days, when I was young, and she was healthy, and it seemed we had our whole lives ahead of us.