The Best of Summer

If it is possible to look forward to remembering a season, then that is the way I best like to enjoy my summers. I don’t tend to appreciate summer as it is happening since I don’t like the heat, the humidity, the bugs and the too long hours of daylight. I do, however, like the memories. Campfires, for instance. There have been many campfires in my past and I hope there will be many more to come, but it is only in memory that I truly savor them. The biting bugs and the humidity are non-existent and the t-shirt doesn’t hurt against my sunburned back. I recall sitting around campfires until the rising sun streaked the sky, popped corn only slightly scorched, endless s’mores, stories, wishes made on shooting stars.

I remember once when I was about twelve having another twelve year old girl stay the night from one of the houses down the way at the lake where we had a cottage. We had a very large screened porch with a full bed at one end, some redwood stained wooden chairs and a metal glider smaller than a loveseat at the other end. Naturally, or so it seemed at the time, we chose to sleep on the glider. Each in our own sleeping bag. My head at one end, hers at the other so that once we were settled, we could talk. I think this incident and our attempts to not only fit into the space, but stay fitted into it, hold my life record for longest sustained laughter.

So, in memory of how my sides ached the following day here’s a toast to the best of summer and to those of us who enjoy it most only after it has passed.