Today was one of those oppressively muggy days. Where you aren't sure if the drop of moisture on your cheek is a raindrop or a sweatdrop or simply the air condensing on your skin. Even bees seemed to move languorously, weighted down by the humidity.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, not many people chose to spend the afternoon in Pheasant Branch today. A young Hispanic man played a bongo while his German Shepherd panted patiently on the bench beside him. A teenaged girl with long shiny hair and a pink tank top slowly walked the trails. When I cheerily commented, "nice view, huh?" she flicked her gaze over to me with a look of sullen suspicion that only a teenaged girl can really pull off.
I hiked to the top of the mound before bicycling home, not passing anyone else on the way.