The Breeze

My favorite trees waiting for “the breeze.”

Photography by Lori K. Tate

This past June when my cousin, Liz, visited from California, she mentioned something a friend of hers had noticed about folks from the South. As Liz, who is originally from Northern Virginia, continued talking, I braced myself to hear, yet again, the hokey stereotypes that have plagued our region forever — we fry everything, we marry our cousins, we talk too slowly, we say fixin’, etc. To my pleasant surprise, she didn’t say any of those things. 

            Instead, her friend noticed that people from the South always talk about “the breeze.” At first I laughed off her friend’s observation, and then my husband and I started listening to our conversations. That’s when we discovered that we do indeed talk about the breeze every single day, sometimes more than once a day — each. It’s as natural as ordering hush puppies at a barbecue joint. 

            When I step on my stoop in the morning to see if the weather is good for a run, the breeze is often the deciding factor. When we contemplate eating on the patio, there needs to be a breeze, but not too much of one because no one wants their napkin to fly off the table. When we go out on the boat at night, we check to see if the breeze makes taking blankets a requirement. When we think about lighting our fire pit, we investigate which way the breeze is blowing. When we’re trying to decide if it’s too hot to mow the yard in the evening, we check for the breeze.

            And if you think about it, the breeze is the beach’s greatest asset. No matter how fancy your getaway digs are, we all enjoy the constant breeze as soon as we step out of our cars at the coast. It’s also the first thing we miss when we return home — that and hanging out in a wet bathing suit all day long and eating Calabash shrimp. 

            My guess is the South’s obsession with the breeze goes back to the days when we didn’t have air conditioning. People most likely stalked the breeze in search of some relief from our oppressive humidity. It doesn’t take a scientist to deduce that warm temperatures would make a slight wind a hot commodity, but I think the breeze plays a more important role in our lives because it’s a beautifully natural Wink of Goodness. It simply comes out of nowhere to make you feel better. 

            When I experience the breeze, whether it’s a cold or hot day, I think of it as Mother Nature exhaling and letting me know that it’s okay for me to exhale with her. It’s like when you’re a kid, and your mom puts your hair behind your ear when she’s saying something comforting. It just makes you feel better without explanation. 

            The other day I was sitting at the breakfast table with my parents at their house. It overlooks a meticulous lawn dotted with scattered trees. Though it was one of those dismally hot days that make even the best southerner yearn for pumpkin spice and hayrides, Dad saw the breeze and immediately got Mom’s attention. “Look, the breeze is blowing the leaves around,” he said. And just like that, the breeze worked its magic once again.