summer.

Summer descends like a thick, wet fog. Monsoon season extended through late June, providing daily acid rain relief from the heat. Everything was filthy, but relatively cool. On this, the first day of July, it's blindingly bright, hazy, and humid. The women here, perpetually concerned with their skin, da (what's the English verb that means 'to use an umbrella'? Is there one?) parasols and don sundresses and espadrilles. It's a charming sight. The parks are abandoned - my handsome skateboarders no longer skid along the curbs outside work - and even the streets seem emptier.

I'm thinking about how much of American culture revolves around the summer months. We populate beaches and swimming pools, slim down or tone up for bikini season, play sports, attend concerts, and picnic in the sun. I came home from work each day to cold beer and ice cream, and collected a sun tan that would last me well into late autumn.

The Chinese, with their aversion to sunlight and cold beverages, probably don't get the same kick out of summer. I'd like to move my weekly badminton outdoors, although I doubt that Flora (in effort to become the fairest bride in China) will agree. The heat takes away my appetite for heavy, greasy local foods, but salads and sandwiches are rare and expensive. It's a good thing I'll be heavily distracted this month with visitors and trips (Tibet, Lijiang, Xi An and Qing Dao are in the line-up), else I'd miss the sun and the sea too much. . .!