In the Heat of the Night
ISSUE #157
Our house’s A/C has been broken for weeks; we wander dazed to each new room like tigers in a burning big top. The only relief comes from the storms that bloom from each evaporating morning. Afterward, the night is damp—the streetlight beams turn to aerosol sprayed through trees of dripping leaves. Atlanta is curtained in midnight mist.
It’s not always so dire, this heat. My senses are stretched, elongated, then heightened. Temperature increases molecular volatility, or the rate at which substances turn to gas—the medium for our sense of smell. Humidity also traps aroma, which makes it linger even longer. The scents of Southern flowers ring out for blocks on the slightest breeze.
Music may be just as volatile, the way a tune can make us sweat. There are two types of summer songs: those that sizzle and those that sway. “Summertime Clothes” is a prime sizzler in how it slithers and buzzes like late-night critters. Gershwin’s “Summertime,” on the other hand, is a swayer—it swoons like Blanche in A Streetcar Named Desire. Both can capture the lurid pleasures of living in the heat.
These summer songs are for the eager sun and the relief of the hazy moon. In the heat, our sweat casts pheromonal spells—even the tiger is swayed by pathogens of desire. Regrets settle when the cool returns, but that’s the nature of our volatile being. Emotion surges beneath our slick skin. No shame surrendering to the heat of the night.
Of all the seasons, fall descends—a cliché so apt as to buck the label. Summer’s elation settles and forms a gelatin of peace. The brain works better in these prime and perfect temperatures. Give your ears a bath with these songs of soothing shadow.