The last summer

It was the last summer he could remember. Then the warm season began, burnt fields, heavy rains instead of winters, the refugees on the roads that moved further north.
A summer as banal as it can be, only warmer than usual. Bathing, eating ice cream, it was the same as always. The air a little heavier, a little tighter. Some talked about it, thought they knew something, but everything went its usual way.