You know it's Summer when the smell of backyard barbecues float into the window of your car as you drive down the side street that leads to your home. You smile to yourself knowingly because you are returning from the grocery store with hamburgers, hot dogs, a package of shrimp, a couple of steaks (for you and the misses), and a watermelon. Your smile continues as you roll out the grill and see your neighbors either doing the same or already poised over hot coals, peering through the smoke that is rising into the air and heading towards the street for passersby to be enticed into partaking of the Summer custom.

In a small town, like mine, you would have most likely passed these people in the grocery store earlier. Maybe you spoke, maybe you didn't. But, as you light your coals and the smoke rises from your back yard and joins the formation of plumes emitting from your neighborhood a strange unification occurs, if only for the brief hours of the evening. A type of cohesiveness begins to develop. It starts with the smoke of the grills, strengthens with the ceremonial wave of the spatula, and blossoms with the conversation that takes place across the fence separating your yards.

An obstacle that one must be aware of at all times in a small town is judgement. The flighty shadow lingers under every word, every gesture, and once it has found root, it becomes a vine that courses through every thought. The aroma of charcoal and cooking meat denies judgement its full power, though. While still lurking, Judgements strength is lessened to a degree in which it must hide in the back of one's mind when confronted with the incense of backyard barbecue treats. Politeness, smiles, and all-around good nature prevail via the enchanting aroma of outdoor cooking. This is definitely one instance you are glad that you and your neighbors thought alike.