summer breeze

It's eleven at night and the air has finally cooled down. All the windows are open allowing the soft breezes to enter the heated house cooling it from the sweltering hot day. The smell of backyard fire perfumes the air creating memories of cool summer nights when I was in Nicaragua. The people in the small villages would all have a fire outside of their stick huts where they would make tortillas or burn the days garbage. I came to love that smell. The Nicaraguans lived simply and were willing to share what little they had, with the blond Canadian stranger.