Sleep, glorious sleep. Elusive in a house air conditioned by open windows and "Polar Wind" electric fans. Trying not to move, baby powder wearing off its drying power. Listening to crickets and bull frogs, counting like sheep. Restless sleep. 3 a.m. the earth starts to cool as the sun has long gone its way and then that sheet isn't enough. An old quilt, dried on the clothesline, ahhh, that's summer to me. That's the sound of a push mower outside my bedroom window when I was a small child supposedly napping. It's the feel of the hammock swaying. Cherry KoolAid, Creamsicles and Circus Peanuts. Summer.