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“The summer of 2019 had overstayed its welcome in Florida, lingering well into September. As if to make a point about global warming, the rabid sun scorched the waters of Biscayne Bay for weeks, generating a haze of humidity that blurred the line between the windless sea and the sky above. Not to be accused of playing favorites, the sun’s rays beat down on the land with equal spite, pummeling grass, palms, and bushes into limp submission. The heat weaponized asphalt roads and cement sidewalks, the shimmery mirages above them a clear warning to all living things to stay away or burn.” — J.K. Franko
The summer of 2019 had overstayed its welcome in Florida,
lingering well into September. As if to make a point about global
warming, the rabid sun scorched the waters of Biscayne Bay for
weeks, generating a haze of humidity that blurred the line between
the windless sea and the sky above. Not to be accused of playing
favorites, the sun’s rays beat down on the land with equal spite,
pummeling grass, palms, and bushes into limp submission. The
heat weaponized asphalt roads and cement sidewalks, the shimmery
mirages above them a clear warning to all living things to stay away
or burn.