Clutching

The heat was unbearable some days. During summer, a pool was a necessity, or access to a canal or reservoirs. People felt lethargic. Getting anything done in the summer heat was impossible.

If pools weren’t affordable, someone might put out the sprinkler and enjoy the cool water as it hits your back and you run through.

Or if nothing else, you find a neighbor who defies watering laws and keeps his sprinklers on, and you run through!

The sun beats down during these months. Nothing will save you, and if you’re pale-skinned, you’ll rue the day you forgot your SPF.

People like to stroll along the canals. We didn’t have lakes or the ocean here, but canals. And a few rivers, but they were apart from the city. For whatever reason, the city was not built around them, but away.

To make Modesto livable, one had to appreciate its pace. It was slower. People took more time with one another. One might sit out on the porch for sometime.

“There go the fireworks again,” he complained

The train ran nightly. If you listened, it was there. It was close to the residential area downtown.

People were seen sleeping on the bus stops past 10, after the last bus stops. Everyone knew these folks weren’t really going anywhere. The lady laying with her newspaper over her head, unconsciously clutching at the few things she had left with her.