a child in the summer months


Nothing brings back a slice of nostalgia from my childhood quite like the smell of warm evenings in the Summer months.

The first hot days. 

The first sun burned shoulders. 

The first evening shower taken; turned mostly to cold.

Last weekend we had a shoulder of Cayuga Lake pretty much to ourselves on a perfect seventy degree, breezy, big blue sky Saturday.

That evening tucking in tuckered kids, I was hit with the forcible memory of that happy- clean- tuckered -feeling.  The comfort of clean civilization after a day of wild wanderings.

Here are the pictures I took that afternoon and string of sentences I jotted down the following day in my writing journal.









(as started earlier…)

Nothing brings back a slice of nostalgia from my childhood  quite like the smell of warm evenings in the Summer months.

Those were it.

The pinnacle of carefree childhood.

Hide and go seek at night looms up from the banks of my murky memory bank. Crickets humming so loud  as you crouch along tall clingy grass you feel like you're hiding near an unseen orchestra pit. And later, when the Moms really, really mean it, and everyone has to go home, you reluctantly go inside,  The bright yellow of inside lights rear up at you.  You blink. The tame orderly walled inside, just for an instant,  strikes you as foreign, contrary, and you wish you could be wild and roaming again. 

Mom demands a shower.

You debate and fiddle with the shower setting.  Not too warm; your skin's  still sticky with sweat.  You  hesitate, not daring to do ice cold, wanting the comfort of warm and clean.

And finally,  the barefoot walk down the upstairs hallway.  Did you know that varnished wood has a different smell in the Summer months?  It has to be something to do with the heat and humidity.  A swelling that releases the natural native scents of the wood.  Trapped before is was sawed and forced to confine itself to a neat purposeful house.  It is a good whispered scent of sweetness, like the kitchen hours after the cake has been pulled from the oven.

    But, the sensation of cool sheets on your warm crispy shoulders is the best.  The subtle after-heat of  sunburn on high thread count.  And I would sleep the sleep only known to a child in the Summer months.


Here's May and the glory of Summer stretched out long and wide before us.



One thought on “a child in the summer months

  1. Awesomeness. We live in the middle of the prairies, and places to play in the water are few and far between. But I remember my grandparents driving us to a cold, leech-infested, far off beach as a child. With a giant inner-tube and a bucket of KFC. And it was the best. Ever. Thanks for reminding me of it! =)


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