Monday, September 25, 2023 Sep 25, 2023
78° F Dallas, TX


A hot array of to-sees, to-dos, to-eats and to-die-fors that make summer survival a breeze
By Tim Allis |

It’s here, and you know it. Summer in Dallas has a way of making a big entrance. It’s not here technically, of course, but who wants to get technical when the mercury is pushing three digits and no amount of Freon seems to keep the car cool enough? Spring was just a warm-up. This is the real thing.

Aside from being plain hot, summer emphasizes just how land-locked and lacking Dallas seems. No mountains, no beaches-by August barely any grass. Thank someone or other for airports. But for those of us who cannot jet away for an entire three-month respite in kinder climes, there is the task of surviving. We suggest thriving. Dallas is hot, but Dallas is also hot. Lots to do. Lots to see. With lots of ways to fool Mother Nature.

So dive in. Make this summer the one you’ve always wanted, whether that means kicking back or taking off. We’ve pegged several dozen maneuvers for tackling summer in the city-from making limeade to taking a ride in a hot-air balloon.

Don’t tell us you’re bored. You can get poetic in the park with Shakespeare or get primitive at the Dallas Museum of Art. We know how to keep fireflies in your yard and the kids out of your hair. We have some athletic alternatives tempered by some very passive I-can’t-resistance in the form of luscious, cool food and drink. For those with stars in their eyes, there’s a mid-July meteor shower, but if diamond vision is more your affliction, we’ve got the best seats for baseball watching and jewelry’s hottest ice. This summer, you’ll find fireworks overhead, hiking trails underfoot and somewhere out there (we know where), real sno-cones.

Some late August evening, when the grass feels leathery to bare feet, a light breeze will come and go like a tricky sylph. Anxiously, we’ll flip the calendar to September. But just after the excitement at the thought of fall and all its lively, conscientious merits, we’ll feel remotely, almost inexplicably sad. Then, lost in the blare of bright leaves, bracing mornings and countless agendas, our summer will have crept away. Make this one worth hanging on to.