Social media is flooded right now with shorts, reels, and videos of influencers in summer dresses enjoying a Hobbit-inspired life against a backdrop of quaint, pastoral views. “Come join us for an outdoor feast at sunset,” they say. “Dance around in the beauty of dusk in your bare feet,” they implore. “Sit around the fire in the evening moonlight and tell tales with us,” they happily encourage.

None of that is possible for we southern Hobbit lasses.

Down here, we have this thing called Satan’s butt crack. You may know it by its other names, such as hell’s front porch or simply, summer. On average, highs hit between the mid 90s to low 100s F (about 35-41C) during the day, with the humidity capping off at 1,000 percent. When that unpleasant combo doesn’t cause severe pop-up thunderstorms producing high winds, hail, tornadoes, or all three at once, the nighttime temps are always just as uncomfortable. The average low being between 76-80F (24-27C) and the humidity still just as high.

To give you an idea of just how uncomfortable that is, imagine if the ground was completely covered with steaming tea kettles, and to go outside, you have to walk across them wearing a padded bra that was soaked in your own sweat 2 seconds after you left your house. Now, I’m a sucker for a gorgeous summer dress, but if I tried to wear one of the thick linen numbers the northern Hobbits are peddling, I’d faint under the southern sun faster than you could say “Hobbit Core”.  I should know, as I attempted to wear one for my author photoshoot back in June. The overheated rosy cheeks and sweaty, glistening skin in the final photo have nothing to do with makeup. And that was taken in the shade!

Then there’s the barefoot aspect. We have these things down in the south called fire ants. Make no mistake, their name dwarfs the pain they can inflict upon you, especially if you’ve had the misfortune of stepping on one of their anthills. By the droves, those little hellions will come out en masse with the pure intention of eating you alive. And all humor aside, some folk are allergic to their bite and can go into anaphylactic shock and die without immediate medical care. Just to drive this point home, know that those who live anywhere on the southern coast, be it off the Atlantic or the Gulf, have adapted to doing what my family likes to refer to as the ant dance. This is where, if you’re in your flipflops (because you would never be so brazen to go barefoot) and standing anywhere near grass or sand, you take to lifting each leg up one after the other like you’re walking on hot coals so the fire ants don’t have a chance to get onto said flipflop and take their revenge upon your person. Frolicking in the fields is a no-go when you consider the ticks, chiggers, and copperheads waiting for you to make a wrong move.

We southern hobbits also know that going outside during the summer without having the equivalent of screened porch surround sound is nothing but folly. To do otherwise, especially in the evening, would be inviting every mosquito, no-seem-um, fly, and blood-sucking bug to dine on both your food and flesh buffet. The idea of enjoying an evening outdoor fire during southern summer conditions would have a southern hobbit spitting out their ale involuntarily. It’s just not going to happen until the weather turns decent again.

The truth is that our southern Hobbit hearts are jealous of our northern kinfolk. We miss having evening outdoor fires! We long to frolic in the fields, barefoot, and in pretty dresses! Alas, that’s something that probably won’t be possible down here until late October, if we’re lucky. But not all is dark for the southern tribes! Because of our warmer weather, three months out of the year down here are actually very lovely. When our northern kin are having to bundle up against the growing bitter winds, we can finally enjoy the outdoors again, in true Hobbit style.

So how do the southern tribes “Hobbit” in the scorching summer climate? We adapt. We try to plan our outings to coincide with the morning or evening hours. We take advantage of any shade we can find during midday. We read a good book during storms or hurricanes. We embrace the protective qualities of flipflops and screened porches. We frequent cool bodies of water, such as pools, lakes, and oceans but take care to steer clear of alligators, cottonmouths, and snapping turtles. We keep our ales chilled and our fans on high. We change clothing frequently and take care to wear the thinnest material possible without getting arrested for indecency. That’s what’s required to “Hobbit” down here, at least until the season changes.

So, from all of us southern Hobbit lasses watching the reels our northern kin post with pangs of longing, we wish you nothing but barefoot wanderings and magical moments. We’ll join you in the celebration… eventually.