It’s worth far more than the heat for me to be honest with you. I haven’t got much except what I’ve got and the most that we can do is have the summer. The water is free and free-flowing and it holds us at about eighty-five degrees. Pink shoulders and spotted cheeks tell you that they need to be wet in order to become dry. I can look at the East and see white light over your hand keeping time and the other in the sand and I think about how far it goes. How fast it goes. I race against two scoops of coconut on a sugar cone and you look at me. Sweet, sweet summer.