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A gentle breeze drifted through the farm chilling the sweat at the back of my neck. A fall's prophet moment, but providing the kind of relief from the hot and humid summer day that makes summer so gentle and easy and right. It was late morning and someone in the house was playing the old RCA Gramophone. "Yes we have no bananas today ..." Floated quietly out the upstairs window. The cotton and lace curtains fluttered silently against the sill in a comic pantomime of the silly little song. It was a perfect summer day. The barn dogs were playing tug-of-war with an old rag when one got it free. I chased Sport and his "game rag" trying to catch him. Finally, I flopped down on the ground and just watched as the dogs raced in circles around me. Rolling over on the soft grass, I stared up at the blue sky and white clouds. Sport came over, shook the rag at me then lay down beside me, resting his head on my stomach. With the rag still in his mouth, he defiantly chewed it, stopping only occasionally to stare at me to see if a game was afoot. I stroked his head and scratched his ears and continued to stare at the clouds trying to see shapes in their billowing forms as they drifted past. After a while, Sport and I slowly drifted off to sleep with the sound of the old gramophone winding down and the curtains barely moving in the window. When I woke Sport was still laying beside me. The gramophone was silent; the wind was still and summer was again just hot and humid.