My wife and I were talking about our favorite season of the year and concluded that it is fall. Summer is too hot and winter too chilly. Spring is nice enough, but it is marred with a sense of foreboding; every day brings us closer to the dreaded start of summer. Late May is the hardest part of summer, when the heat hits in force, but you have not yet been acclimated to triple digit intensity.
In Houston, it’s not the heat in August but the heat in October that gets you. Out there the relentless humidity lingers until just about Halloween. With our dry heat, Vegas is much harsher when the sun is up, and equally as relentless around the clock in July, but it does lighten up in the evenings, especially as summer winds down.
This transition between summer and fall sets the scene of my favorite vignette in the city after living here for half a decade. I’ve seen it in multiple playgrounds as children and parents are released from the coop of their air conditioned boxes. The kids race around on the equipment as the parents are chatting on the side. You hear yelps and screams, and three or four languages mix together around you. Everyone is out. A collective energy fills the air.
I wonder if any other city has as much a divergence between its public and private personas. But if you want a glimpse at the heart of this city, drive out to a playground right now, this evening, and we’ll be here to show you.