One Hot Day in the Mister

One hot day at camp, we were running around playing games, rashes were breaking out, there was much sweating, and all in all the children were at high risk for dehydration and heat exhaustion. Joe and I led a group of them over to the mister, where we danced around in the cool spray; robot, egyptian, slow dancing, whatever we could think of. After a few moments, our hair was all rimmed in silver droplets, sparkling in the sun. We all looked like christmas ornaments.

It was lovely. Soon, though, the water wet us through, and we moved through it, dripping slowly, making movements like water running through a steam. I've spoken before about losing yourself in a rhythm; this was one of those times. Though the beat was lopsided and the dance was clumsy, I forgot myself nonetheless. Shining in the sun, glittering like melting snowdrops, becoming the steam itself, tumbling over and into tomorrow.