I’m in an airplane, 30,000 feet up in the sky, somewhere over North Carolina. Hazy summer air sits like a damp blanket over the indistinct landscape below. I imagine farmers, roofers, kids playing, all simmering in the relentless humid heat I’ve just left behind at my mom’s house in Florida.
Summer in the South brings two thoughts to mind: thank God for AC, and I can’t wait to get home and breathe some cool air.
Flying always feels like taking a big giant step between distinctly...


