I really enjoy my back porch. Rebecca and I sit out here on most summer nights. We talk about the days activities, play with Arlo the monster, listen to some music but lots of evenings we sit in the dark and just listen.

It got me to thinking about summer nights in the south and how fortunate I am to live here in this part of the country. My southern roots run deep and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

What is the best things about summer nights in the South? Sitting on the porch during a evening thunderstorm watching the fireworks show the Lord has provided plus the sound of the rain falling on my porch roof and the unmistakable aroma of rain.

The evening concerts that we get to enjoy free of charge of frogs, crickets and for the first time in 13 years we will be invaded by cicadas which will be added to the evening orchestra.

The Braves are on TV almost every night but there is something magical about tilting your head back, closing your eyes and with bourbon in hand you listen to baseball on the radio. Memories of Skip, Ernie and Pete tend to always dance in my head.

Speaking of bourbon, porch drinking is always better under the evening sky. You sip, you ponder and you sip some more.

You know summer has truly arrived when you spot your first Lightning Bug. Do people actually call them Fireflies? I haven’t caught a Lightning Bug in years but you never get that smell out of your mind. Lightning Bugs from what I read are becoming more rare. Seems we are developing on their habitat. Lightning Bugs don’t relocate they just disappear. Another thing we humans are doing to screw up nature.

When I am sitting on the porch in the summertime I am reminded of course of the song “Southern Nights”. Everyone has heard the Glen Campbell version but I find myself digging Allen Toussaint’s version after all he wrote the song.

When I was a kid I remember some nights we would hop in the car and go to what I think was the Dairy Queen or maybe Daisy Queen in Fort Mill. I remember getting a Seven Up float and it being on of the worst things I had ever tasted. All memories of southern evenings don’t have to be great, I guess.

When I think of summer evenings I tend to drift back to my grandmother. Helping her clean “a mess of fish”, shucking corn and learning from her that the best tomatoes are peeled tomatoes (which is the best way to eat a tomato)all the while the rumble of thunder in the background.

Summer evenings. Savor them. We do not get but so many in a lifetime.