I find it puzzling the generation of sidewalks that pass on the way to the grocery store.
Times when my tongue clicked at the passing trees and hot air
made me scream.
Katie always did her best, but her best against the summer  
beast was no great feat.  

Feet, on one hand, were not something I could stand the feeling of, with all their nerves and endings.
On the other hand, feet are not hands, nor am I holding one in my hand,  
for that matter, nor was I in the Volkswagen when the trees were waving by. Excellent
times to think back to.