Winter in July, it is a dream of snow. It is white sheets waving on a clothesline, white butterflies dancing on white flowers.
It is a cool breeze and a gray sky, an almost autumnal feel, a favorite jacket in the light evening rain. Blankets at night.
Real winter is months away. It is a memory of blizzards, or a future date on a calendar. Already, there are ads for school supplies, already next year’s calendars. Is it too early to think about these things? It’s not too early to think about mid-term elections. November is coming.
But today, it’s a beautiful summer day. Ice is clinking in ice-tea glasses. Ice cream is melting in the sun.