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The Heat of Summer by Helen Chappell

sigh as you roll onto Kent Island in the middle of the night. In the summer you can turn the A/C off and roll the windows down and let the slightly less hot breath of the Shore roll over you, just long enough to fill your lungs with marsh gas and that intense, solid raspberry Jell-O known as Eastern Shore humidity. Yes, it’s like inhaling gelatin on an airless summer night. People who come over here in fall and spring have no idea exactly what summer is like here, unless they’ve lived in the Florida Keys, and even that has a nice breeze most of the time. There is no better description than it’s like breathing raspberry Jello-O. Not lime, although it looks

I read that the Bay Bridge toll has risen to a shocking $6. For that they should throw in someone to drive you across so you can relax and enjoy the great views of the Bay. Instead you are forced into a rattling, white-knuckled ride between a couple of eighteen-wheelers and a stoned teenager driving his graduation present Mercedes SUV between lanes while his friends’ bare feet hang out the open window. Since having someone drive you is not an option, the next best thing is heading eastbound and knowing at some point you will be back on the Shore where you belong. I get an overwhelming feeling of relief, especially coming home from the airport. There’s just this big happy

Bridge traffic is like a parking lot in the summer. 9

August 2013 ttimes web magazine  

Tidewater Times August 2013

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