My mind goes immediately to feet when I think of summer. When you start walking around barefoot or put on sandals, summer is here.
When Mama sent me to the mailbox to mail a letter, I had to cross Lincoln Avenue. Now this was no trouble during cooler months when I was shod in my Keds, but barefoot in summer it was a challenge. The concrete sidewalk was cool enough to walk on, but the black asphalt road burned. My solution was to walk on the white-painted crosswalk lines. They felt smooth and cool under my bare feet, even cooler than the sidewalk.
If I wasn’t barefoot, I was slapping along in thongs. My cousins called them zories, and nowadays they are called flip-flops. (Thongs are something else). Mama bought us a new pair of zories at the start of summer each year, usually one or more sizes bigger than the year before. The new ones felt funny for the first week or so, until they got stretched, squished and worn, in just the right places to fit your feet perfectly.
Do you have a memory of summer feet?