Summer Mornings.

My mom’s childhood friend once told me that she thinks people get reincarnated just to experience more summer nights. I honestly don’t know if she was just exaggerating her love for cool breezes, boardwalks, flip flops and ice cream, or if she was dead serious. Knowing my mom and her quirky friends, I tend to think the latter. I was watching “The X-Files” during this conversation and I was 18, so while I may have half been involved in that conversation, it stuck with me to this day.

Last night we turned off all of the lights of the second level of our house and walked out to the deck to watch the fireflies and the stars come out, brighter by the second. We shivered in the most delicious breeze. We went inside and ate homemade strawberry shortcake. With whipped cream. I was already in a major summer state of mind. I’m not sure why the calendar year continues to think that late June is the start of summer. I think we all know that late May is when you get that first inspiration or smell or experience that strikes you in an instant and then you know – it’s summer. This also happens at the holiday season, at least for my family. There’s just a split second when you know and then you are there, semi-permanently.

I’ve had many experiences leading up to this feeling, but nothing solid. Then yesterday dawned warm and humid and hazy sunny. Cassidy got up early and decided to get a head start on weeding/gardening. Scarlet woke up begging for her vitamins and some yogurt and once she got word of where her father was, that’s the only place she wanted to be. Her excitement was like any kid on Christmas. We rushed to her room to get changed. Why? I have no idea. We had no rush to be ANYWHERE for three days. But, still. She flung off her pajamas and tugged on clean underwear and pants. I helped her into a t-shirt. Sunscreen was slathered on. Then sandals. I rushed into my own flip flops. Then we were off.

The sound of a swinging screen door and then little feet on wooden planks. Birds chirping. Hand in hand, we walked down our mile-long driveway (not really that long, but sorta really that long) and then we found Cassidy already thick in the cool dirt. Together they weeded and held worms and talked and made up bug names and got nice and dirty until the heat rose up.

I went back inside to put up my feet with a good book and contemplate summer.

Summer mornings and summer nights. I guess I’m a sucker for both. I always have been but nights are extra delicious lately because they hold promise of another day done and closer to this here baby being born! And mornings are extra delicious lately because they hold promise of another day to embrace with my family and all of those sensory things that feel so good.

Freshly mowed grass. Lemonade. Butterflies. The chorus of night insects. Running through a sprinkler, fully clothed, cause I’m pregnant and ten degrees hotter than non-pregnant people.

Even Scarlet wanted ice cream tonight. She never eats ice cream. She ate a burger and ice cream. Ahh…summer. Where we all scream for it.

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One Comment

  1. Hi, I feel honored to be referred to in your blog! I was dead serious. What I meant was, what attracts people to this life, what makes people come again and again, is not the so-called big things (pleasure, wealth, power, orgiastic experience of any type), but the small, utterly wonderful things — things like summer nights, spring rains, autumn skyscapes in the afternoon, fresh snowfalls. And, then, also, things like the shadows of things falling on the shadows of other things. Criss cross fences, train tracks, the sound of anything against anything else. Other worlds may be brighter, but NONE of those things exist anywhere except for here. And I was thinking that for these things, and not the others, people come back and back and back.

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