Oh, those hot summer days; in California, no less. At times the temperature would enter the low 100’s. We didn’t mind though, my six siblings and I, as we tromped through the fields, gathering tumble weeds for our backyard forts, much to my mother’s chagrin. When we got tired of conquering the world, we would sit on the front porch, eating juicy red watermelon and trying to outdo the last long-distance shot, with the watermelon seeds. Every spring new watermelon plants would mysteriously shoot up in our front yard. We enjoyed early dinners and ran out to play longer, while the sun seemed to sit in its sky forever. It was just setting as we would come home, relax in the back of dad’s parked pick-up and eat ice cream in cones (after drooling over the various ice-creams in the local shop’s display freezers), comparing the names printed on the ice cream cone and discussing whose name was the best that day. Why do summer days seem to last forever, when before we know it, they are gone?