Proof of Summer

Today is the last day of July which means there’s less than one month of summer left.

Why is it that now that I’m an adult, summer moves by at warp speed? I remember when I was a child, those long days of  June, July and August stretched out like a road with no end. I could go off and do whatever I wanted as long as I was home by dinnertime. School never started until after Labor Day.

I remember how all the neighborhood kids and I would ride our bikes to the beach and on the way home the sand in our bathing suits would scratch at our bodies like sandpaper. When we finally got home, sleepy from playing all day in the waves and cranky because we only packed a baloney sandwich on white bread and an apple for lunch, we would fight over who got to rinse off with the hose first because the water was warm for only a few seconds.

I remember how we cleaned the tar from our feet with a rag soaked in gasoline poured from an old metal can which turned our fingers orange from the rusty cap. I remember how our shoulders would be tender and pink from sunburn; how we would come home with more freckles across our noses than we had when we left that morning.

I remember how good my mother’s homemade meatloaf and mashed potatoes tasted and that I would even eat all my peas because I was so ravenous. I remember the sweet creaminess of a real vanilla ice cream cone after dinner. I remember hearing the crickets chirp while playing hide and seek in the street until the porch light went on and I was called in for the night.

Summer may be different for me now, but it’s still summer. I may play in the garden instead of in the waves. I may stay out of the sun now.  But it’s still summer, and it’s still magical.  And everywhere I look there are signs that it’s here for a little while longer.

Here’s my proof.

Isa’s unmade bed.

The summer garden.

A new litter of puppies.

A book so good you can’t put it down.

The color purple.

A good nap.

I hope you enjoy the rest of your lazy days of summer.

 

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