Things become larger when they get hot.

That’s why the days are longer in the summer than they are in the winter.

Summer has bullied spring out of the way.

There are cobwebs on the snowblower.

I have been using a lint roller to remove the ticks from my body.

Heat causes our ambition to have no ambition.

The wonderful writer, Russell Baker, wrote, “Ah, summer, what power you have to make us suffer and like it.”

Summer is a time of thunderstorms and hollyhocks. Thunder is an important source of loudness. Summer is a train that sounds far away and long ago. Meadowlarks, calling loons, prairies in bloom, endless cornfields, and a thankfulness that I don’t live in Arizona. A perfect evening is when the fireflies come out and the mosquitoes don’t.

I love grabbing a good book and sitting in a familiar chair in the shade. I find joy in watching a patient heron fish and seeing laundry drying on a clothesline.

Joseph Wood Krutch wrote, “If nature is ever purely vegetative, it is now.”

I tell nothing in the garden that it will be eaten. The taste of summer becomes a reality—ripened berries, sweet corn, and red tomatoes. I may end up torn, tattered, tired, sweaty, and bloody, but I will enjoy raspberries for breakfast.

Summer buzzes. Cicadas know summer and give voice to hot weather. They hum like old telephone wires.

Christina Rosetta wrote, “Summer days for me are when every leaf is on its tree.”

Our assignment is to enjoy summer to the utmost because before long, the leaves will fall and fall will become the season.

Swimming

As a boy, I made it a weekly practice to jump into the Le Sueur River. I would flop around in what we called the “creek.” I called it swimming, but it really wasn’t. I never learned how to swim. It would have been a difficult skill for me to master. I am not good at doing things that require me to keep my mouth shut. I never took swimming lessons. I think I rejected the training held at St. Olaf Lake because a neighbor boy referred to them as “drowning lessons.” Swimming was a scary thing in my family. The last word uttered by my great-grandfather was “Shark!” I guess he had never seen a bullhead before. Actually, Great-grandpa had forgotten that he couldn’t swim. A bad memory that lead to a tragic end. My wife was a lifeguard at St. Olaf Lake. She lords her swimming ability over me. Sometimes she calls me “Wade” because I’ve never learned how to swim.

I take showers instead of baths.

My rubber ducky complains, but who cares?

Rain

It’s raining pitchforks and axe handles and you are caught in the middle of it.

You have no umbrella or raincoat. You need to get from where you are to a shelter from the downpour. You wonder if you are better running or walking. Which method of locomotion would keep you drier?

A couple of climatologists from North Carolina attempted to answer this question. They donned identical clothing — they wore the same size. The clothing had been weighed before the test and the men wore plastic bags under their clothes to trap any water that might seep through.

One man walked the 100-meter course (about 328 feet), while the other ran. After they finished the route, they weighed their clothes.

The runner’s garments were 44 percent drier than the apparel of the walker.

Neither man tried dancing or skipping in the rain to see how that worked. Anyone who says that only sunshine brings happiness has never danced or skipped in the rain.

Rain is nurturing and cleansing. A rain heals the landscape by washing our sidewalks and streets clean after a long winter. A rainy day is what we save things for. Things like a nap or a good book. We have had a lot of rain this year. Everyone should be well-rested and well-read.

In the flood recounted in the Bible, Noah built an ark and it rained 40 days and 40 nights. We get the same impact when it rains 10 days and 10 nights and the sewers back up. The floods are distressing and destructive. Steps will be taken to prevent future flooding. We’ll likely build another sports stadium.

My father said that I should never pray for rain nor for it to stop. He also said that it always rains after a drought.

My grandmother said the best thing to do when it is raining is to let it rain.

I asked my neighbor Crandall how his garden was doing.

“Not good,” he said. “The bullheads are eating my tomatoes.”

Stay dry.

Hartland resident Al Batt’s column appears every Wednesday and Sunday.