My Happy Place

Sitting on my deck, vast and beautiful. My happy place.
The air is humid and hot and thick. A bead of sweat builds and trickles down my cleavage.
The sun is bright, almost unbearable, the grass so vibrant I can hardly look at it. I shade my eyes from it’s glare, closing them even. I don’t need my eyes to tell me it’s beautiful.
The lazy dog lies at my feet uninterested in any exertion of energy, as am I. He lies without a worry in the world. This must be why they call it the dog days of summer.
A wasp circles overhead, doing whatever it is that wasp do? I have no idea and I couldn’t care less, just leave it be and hope it gives me the same courtesy.
The birds are squawking insistently, communicating to the others in near by trees.  The gossip goes on for hours. Do they ever tire of something to talk about?
A breeze stirs, just enough to rustle the leaves and give me a moment of relief from the swelter. Then it calms, the the air thickens again.
I have air conditioning inside the house. Relief just through those doors. I could go in and be cool and comfortable in the artificial air and sit on my cozy couch. But inside there are chores to be done, people calling me mom and honey, a television blaring some radical cartoon character that only yells his words when he speaks, and lunch to be made.
No, I think I will sit here. In the heat, and the blazing sun, with my lazy dog. I will relax my muscles to the point of wondering if I still have feeling in my body, I will soak up the rays on my skin, enjoy the sweaty trails running down my body as it soaks through my clothes. The world can live without me for a little while longer.  Right now, I am in my happy place and carefree.