Remember:

Two stroke engines were so obscene, especially when it was porch sitting time. Nearby, the playground rattled with clinking metal and squealing children.

It was hard to sleep, but wine helps, especially dry rose', just cool enough to matter. That was what his wife liked and he drank it now, to remember.

Summers around here were few and far between-- only about every 3 years. This one had stretched on so long, the old man forgot about the rain. That is, until it was time to water the tomatoes.

But the air had started changing in the mornings now. It was cooler. The dew had settled and even the chickens slept in and he knew the dark was coming.

Indian summer was still a possibility, so he propped the book on his chest and dozed off, dreaming about the Spring and gazing at clouds.