Racking Up Another Summer

Summer is now officially here!

As of 11:54 A.M. EST, this past Friday, the sun arrived at its highest point in the northern hemisphere, which means we experienced the greatest amount of daylight and least amount of darkness of any day of the year, not counting the ever present dark, gloomy, rainy skies we’d been living under for the last 6 months…or thereabouts

My lawn looks spectacular, however, including the bountiful new crop of mushrooms within, so there’s that.

Yep, we can all start officially enjoying the summer, whole hog, instead of the half hog unofficial enjoyment we’d only been permitted between Memorial Day and now.

So go for it!

In any manner of hog you prefer.

And don’t dawdle because we only have a measly 3 months of official summer left, and you know how that goes.

The LL Bean Fall catalogue is flooding your local post office as we speak, and I’ve already started unpacking my Christmas lights.

It goes fast.

Which is why I don’t get as hung up on the comings and goings of the seasons as much as I did when I was younger...ish.

Nowadays, they all roll by so fast that if you miss any part of the feature presentation or wish to watch it again, it’ll be re-racked and begun anew before you know it.

Just like Netflix.

And I can’t tell you how excited I am to have used “anew” in a sentence.

Might be my first time.

Something else to cross off the bucket list.

Ah, yes…it seems like only 3 months ago we were welcoming in Spring.

I always set my phone alarm to go off at just the precise second the seasons arrive.

I’m funny that way.

Among other ways.

So, on this past March 20^th at precisely 5:58 PM Z and I were just starting out on our evening walk when this very pleasant alarm music begins to emanate from my pocket.

And, of course, my immediate reaction was to say, “Why the hell is my alarm going off in my pocket?”

To which Z merely shruged as we continued on our way and missed the whole thing.

Until later, when one of us, not sure who—okay, probably Z—remembered “Hey, it’s the Equinox!” and one of us, not sure who—okay, probably me—says “We should whip up some frosty adult beverages and give spring a proper welcome back toast!”

Which is not all that unusual since I’ll propose a toast if I see a squirrel digging a hole in my lawn…
 or more likely if a squirrel is just walking on my lawn…or I anticipate a squirrel will be walking on my lawn, sometime in the immediate future, which is always open to interpretation.

Anyway, the point of all this is to say I recalled my failed spring welcoming and decided to set my alarm and head out for another walk last Friday morning to officially welcome in the summer.

Which I did, and as I rounded the corner and skirted the backside of the park, off went the pleasant music in my pocket, again, to which, this time, I said, “Why the hell is my alarm going off in my pocket?”…but immediately self-corrected with …”Okay, I know this means something…and I’m sure it will come to me….”

Which it did…eventually…just as I came upon a group of preschoolers frolicking on the park swings and things.

And, even if they weren’t, if you can’t insert a frolicking reference into a Summer Solstice story, when can you?

But in this case, there was actual frolicking before me, which immediately brought back early memories of my own summer frolics, all which helped shape my now happy perception of summer.

Then it occurred to me, in my never-ending quest to capture and hold onto every new, “lazy, hazy days of summer” roll out, it’s an impossible quest since summer is really just a state of mind. 

There’s nothing tangible to grab onto and put in your pocket.

Just a rush of past, hopeful, happy, summer memories; days spent splashing in your neighbor’s pool or building sandcastles at the beach; climbing trees in the park, hunting giants, or just hanging out at home watching old reruns of Gomer Pyle in the middle of the day. And as more and more summers spin through life, all these lackadaisical, happy memories become more and more a part of our personal summer song.

Like the first whiffs of honeysuckle arriving on an evening breeze, alongside all the new lightening bugs, sparkling and dancing like spirits in the night. How can we not resurrect all those ghosts on dusty beach roads, as we rolled down the windows and let the wind blow back our hair, Springsteen blasting up to the Big Dipper…just in case something happened to be listening.

True, you can’t actually grab hold of summer and put it in your pocket, which I’m guessing would only lead to soggy pockets, anyway. But in a lot of ways, you have to say, summer has grabbed hold of us over the years and put us in its pocket; a pocket lined with all our thoughts of summers past

These are the memories, the magic that fuels this summer and all the summers to come, leaving us wanting more…and more…and more.

Unless you spent your summers working in a meat packing plant, like my cousin Ernie who takes off for the north pole every June, muttering something about pork chops.

But that’s just Ernie and a story for another day,

Summers here and the time is right…to do anything you want. 

Gomer Pyle starts at 3.

Enjoy your Summer!

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