A long, hot summer, just like the name of the movie. Those of us who were born on this side of the world and have not traveled, do not know what it feels like to be in summer or winter or any of the seasons. We only have a dry period and a rainy period; but this does not mean that winter is permanent as we usually call it, but rather intense rains, which subside and give the sun a chance to show itself again. The sun is our perennial guest.

Before, we had the rainy season from April to October and the sunny season or summer from October to April. With climate change, rains appear at any time of the year, sometimes causing disasters. I have always liked summer, going out in the morning and seeing the radiant sun is for me the prelude to having a good day. I do not like the gray that rainy periods give to nature. It can happen that one morning it rains intensely and in the afternoon the strong sun is there drying everything.

There's a kind of anarchy in the air right now. I go back to when I was 10, I'm in fourth grade with a bad teacher, and I make the most of the days when there's no school to play.

I played a lot in my childhood, fortunately. The house where I lived had a patio and my grandmother's house, which I visited every afternoon, had an even bigger patio. Playing there with my cousins was our only obligation; every day we invented something to entertain ourselves; but we also repeated traditional games: drawing hopscotch in the dirt and jumping from one square to another; swinging on an improvised swing, jumping rope, running after each other so that when we touched it, it would turn into the one chasing us; making up that ghosts came out of the back of the patio, so that when the afternoon came we would run there, and then run out screaming, terrified; the smallest one always fell and we were scolded for it.

I realize now that the presence of fear within the game was almost obligatory; we always made up that something was going to happen to us for having played in some way, or that we were going to be chased in the middle of nowhere, generating palpitations of fear and sometimes fear of going to sleep. I remember myself with a red face and panting from running so much. From the shadows made by the trees we played at jumping from one section to another so as not to step on the dark areas, if we stepped on them it meant a punishment and we walked on tiptoe with all care trying not to step on them.

It was a good time, where we didn't worry about anything. If it was raining a lot and we couldn't go outside, we made paper boats with the pages of our notebooks that rolled down the small streams that were made by the waterfalls on the roof, and if it was very sunny, we would still run from one place to another, to cool off later with some fruit juice made by the adults.

Eating frozen ice creams from the freezer, made the day before with any fruit of the season: mango, guava, bananas, grapefruit, tamarind, was like a reward and something necessary. Some of these are hardly seen anymore, like the "green fruit" that only the smell is stored in my brain, the guama, ponsigue, semeruca and others.

Now as an adult, when I go to the plain and the thermal sensation is at 45 degrees, I can better understand this long and hot summer.

This is my entry for the invitation of Memoir-Monday №52, to which our friend @ericvancewalton invites us every week.

Thank you for your kind reading.

My content is original.
I'm sorry I don't have any images of this time. I used them from Pixabay.
I used Google Translate.