It seems this spring’s nippy weather is finally behind us. With Memorial Day, the unofficial start to summer, just around the corner, temperatures have crept into the mid-80s across Georgia this week.

But we all know the days of moderate and tolerable warmth are numbered. Soon, we will be in the unbearable clutches of the hot, muggy weather predicted this year by the Farmer’s Almanac.

For now, though, the weather is feeling good. Earlier this week, climate conditions were near perfect — at least in the mornings — for this Chicago native.

Almost 30 years ago, the late Ken Fuson, a gifted storyteller from the Des Moines Register, wrote what may have been his most memorable story, a single, 400-word sentence recounting a 70-degree day in Iowa. Like Fuson, over the course of my journalism career, I have written my share of weather stories. And trust me, they can get pretty ho-hum.

But Fuson took a novel approach to writing about the onset of spring in the Midwest, and it begs imitation in this humble homage, a recounting of the sights I took in on a few picture-perfect days as I wandered through the city.

Welcome to another summer in Atlanta.

Here is how Atlanta celebrates the unofficial start to summer: By gathering toddlers in the park for a birthday party and serving them greasy pizza and juice boxes at a picnic table before giving in to their screaming desire to go — higher! higher! — on the swings; by twerking while working, like the sanitation worker on Euclid Avenue moving to music that only she can hear; by watering pollinator habitats in the front yard, side yard or backyard to summon the butterflies and bees still sleepily emerging from a winter/spring slumber; by greeting a new lawn guy because the one from last summer went AWOL; by putting on sunglasses, grabbing folding chairs and reading books on front lawns next to plastic kiddie pools; by waking up to windows bathed in sunlight and rushing outside because the longer days still feel too short; by driving with the top down and the Doobie Brothers blaring on the radio; by plucking last year’s beach read from the Little Library on the corner; by aimlessly strolling through Avalon and Atlantic Station to live, work and play on a weekday; by preparing for sleep-away camps and trips to faraway places, where stress is shed like an animal molting; by stopping to buy fruit from the watermelon man parked in the vacant lot of a shuttered Dollar Store; by stopping to gaze up at the Ferris wheel in the parking lot at Plaza Fiesta on Buford Highway; by crossing to the shady side of every street as the mercury creeps past 80 degrees; by pulling a tan suit and blue button up from the back of the closet for a classic warm weather look; by ordering ice cream in a crisp sugary waffle cone bowl so it doesn’t drip and so every spoonful can be savored; by taking the kids to Six Flags now to avoid visiting when it’s 90 degrees in the shade; by delivering food on a bicycle with a cooler taped to the handlebars; by standing in parks with eyes closed and faces turned to the sky; by rushing out of school buildings and counting down the days until the school year ends; by meeting up with friends and neighbors to dine al fresco and watch movies under the stars; by leaving home with metal bottles filled to the brim with ice cold water; by shopping for new swimsuits and sundresses and sandals because … summer; by taking evening strolls and pausing to appreciate the intoxicating smell of a neighbor’s night-blooming jasmine; by cleaning up decks and pulling out grills for Memorial Day gatherings; by taking in every sight, sound, smell, taste and feeling before this too short moment of perfect outdoor weather gives way to oppressive heat and a season spent in temperature-controlled environments.

Read more on the Real Life blog (www.ajc.com/opinion/real-life-blog/) and find Nedra on Facebook (www.facebook.com/AJCRealLifeColumn) and Twitter (@nrhoneajc) or email her at nedra.rhone@ajc.com.