Sweet, Sweet Summer

Bojo,

The summer has officially begun. The sun has been out, in between some rain here and there. The temperature has been above 60 degrees pretty consistently. Summer Solstice is now.

Since I was a child the weeks after school let out for summer, June seemed to be a long, lazy Saturday. Pretty endless. My days were spent outside in the park, on the tennis court, on a bike, in the lake – by the time the streetlights came on, I was definitely ready to be home. Good tired from all the fresh air. Easy sleeping. Happy dreaming. Ready for a new day of adventure as soon as the birds woke me up the next morning. June was quite endless and wonderful.

It used to feel like such a long wait for the Fourth of July. People talked about what they were doing for the Fourth. They made plans with family and neighbors. Fireworks were purchased every time we went to a store for anything. Often, we would all have matching outfits for the biggest US Holiday; matching shorts and tops, matching sundresses. When the parade schedules came out, or the community carnivals – all the neighborhood kids were too excited to think of anything else. The whole town was a party on July Fourth!

On July 5^th, however, August and Labor Day – the start of the new school year, was suddenly 5-minutes away. Each morning in July became evening every time I blinked. There was still beautiful weather but nothing else to look forward to. Labor Day, although a holiday, was never anything I looked forward to. It was the ultimate signal that the good times of summer were coming to an end. No matter how much clothes shopping we would do during Labor Day weekend, it was not therapy for me. It meant I would essentially be stuck at a school desk daydreaming while looking out the windows of a classroom. I would be no longer roaming freely until the following summer.

All my life, I would rather have been outside exploring, paddling or napping in the sun atop a breezy hill by some body of water in the summer. The number of wildflower bouquets, tadpoles collected, or times of bloody stubbed big toes was innumerable. The wildflowers were usually violets from under the hedgerow. The tadpoles were held in a sand pail for a few minutes then poured back into the water. The stubbed toes, I can still feel and taste in my mouth. This is my definition of summer in the 1970s in a small Midwestern town. It was heavenly.

With outdoor music and community events happening daily, with outdoor seating at restaurants and bars, with lupines blossoming all over the Lake Superior south shore – I wish you all the best this summer! Breathe the air! Soak up the sun! Swim in the water! Adventure! Explore! Love and be loved! And of course - Happy 250^th birthday America!!!

 I hope your July and August linger as long as you need.

~Patti