Summer Mornings

I love summer in June. By July or August, I'm sick of being hot and sweaty, sick of going out in and out of air conditioning, tired of the way you feel suffocated standing on the subway platform, or the rot of garbage on the curb, but the first few weeks of June are always wonderful for me.

I try to live without air conditioning because I love the feeling of waking up to a hot day when the windows are open. The way the floor feels on your feet when you step on it that first morning in June that you wake up to heat. It reminds me of visiting my grandmother in North Carolina and waking up in the front bedroom, that was filled with ancient cake tins, tupperware, afghans, and holiday decorations. The bed sagged in the middle and squeaked every time you moved, but the front window looked out onto her front porch and the porch swing, and the gigantic tree in the front yard.

Also, its lovely to be here in New York now that it's warm. Last night, I sat and ate dinner in Washington Square Park and walked across town to a literary reading, of all things. I was a great night to walk across town, to people watch, to watch the neighborhoods change. I have a friend who lives right next door to the Hell's Angels location, which is how I found her house. I was thinking, I know this is where a friend of mine lives, because I remember seeing the Hell's Angels the last time I was here. Then I did something almost unknown in New York, which was to call her home phone and announce I was in the neighborhood and could I come in and say hi? It's fitting because that's a very southern thing to do and she is my pal from South Carolina. She was ready with the bourbon. It was a perfect New York evening.