Summer
A time of innocence
Journal: 14 June, 2024, morning.
Summers: Bellinis, capris, glasses of ice tea wet with condensation, flipflops, ceiling fans, watermelon, days at the lake, starry evenings, the smell of freshly cut grass, dinner on the grounds, fireworks, music from the bandstand.
Summers: roadtrips, always. Pilgrimages, family reunions, weekend small adventures, voyages of discovery (planned and accidental). Small souvenirs, old photographs. Memories.
A long time ago, I was supposed to go with my sister and her family on a cross country trip to Washington state but I ended up spending a week in the hospital instead, with a bad case of the flu. My sister brought me a sterling silver charm from New Mexico and it’s still on my charm bracelet, a relic from early teenage years. That was not the summer I’d planned and looked forward to and I don’t remember what happened during the rest of it. Things blur over time and it’s always odd what you do remember, which is mostly just fragments of this and that, slideshow freeze frames.
Summers: fireflies, whipperwills, hand cranked ice crème from a wooden freezer with an old boat cushion on top because you had to sit on it to keep it from moving when it was almost done and the cranking got harder. You had to work for your pleasure back then.
We had a camp on the lake and boats with outboard motors and even now, when I smell that two stroke engine mixture of fuel in weed eaters or edgers, I am back there in those long ago summers. Calamine lotion and Campho Fenique and army cots and quilts. Fish fries. Washtubs of soft drinks. Cobblers, to go with the homemade ice cream.
Summers: hot nights at the drive in movie. Those little spiral mosquito repellents, trips to the snack bar, the over the car window speakers. Clint Eastwood in those spaghetti westerns. Are there even drive ins now? I think those are just memories because who would do that?
Summers: mostly an attitude. Endless Summer, that surfing movie with the unforgettable soundtrack. The Beach Boys and those California Girls. Coconut scented suntan lotion. Sunbathing on the dorm sundeck, Bob Dylan on the radio, Vietnam on the nightly news.
Summers: the innocence of youth, what we didn’t know then, what we would learn. Bob Segar told it true.
#journalingalife
