Summer Scenes
The summer vibes have been as hot as the midday sun for our family in July. Swimming, camps, fresh cut grass, more swimming, barbecues with friends, late evenings looking at the stars, and even more swimming. I feel like my summer bingo card is almost completely checked off. Here are some of my favorite scenes.
At the pool with my daughter and niece of 11 and 6 respectively. Their lessons are back-to-back, so while my niece swims, my daughter and I chill by the pool while casually reading. When they switch places, everything changes. My niece likes to talk, and move, and adjust the umbrella so the sunlight pierces my vision. I ask her to stop, and she pretends the handle is a microphone and starts singing.
After a lovely chorus, she sits down next to me. Boredom strikes within ten seconds. Faced with an uncommunicative uncle, she turns to the elderly women waiting for a senior swim class happening after my daughter is done. She introduces herself and begins telling this elderly darling the story of her life. The toys she has, the great adventures of her past, and the upcoming day’s agenda. More women show up for water aerobics, and her audience grows. By the time my daughter is out of the pool, my niece is entertaining six ladies.
We walk to the changing rooms, where my daughter has to guide her all the way because of the constant temptation to start up new conversations. Squirrel! When they exit the changing room, she makes a beeline back to the pool, walking the entire length so that she can say goodbye to everyone in the class. They respond in kind, energized by a child that I assume reminds them of their own grandkids. Smiles all around.
On my friend's deck as sunlight flickers through the trees before fading into evening. The grill is hot and ready for meat. As human men, my buddy and I stand at attention, fulfilling our evolutionary duty to roast dinner over flames. Five bubbling girls race back and forth on the ground beside us. They are also cooking, but with very different ingredients. Pine cones covered in long grass clippings, dipped in mud appear to be the main course. We cook - they cook. We smile and reminisce about previous quests. They bake over imaginary fire while dreaming of future escapades. For a brief moment, all other life outside of this ten foot radius disappears. In these seconds, all is right and true and beautiful.
The color green blankets my entire yard. I’m so happy. A friend commented that they have never seen a yard where each blade of grass is cut to the same length. I explain that the weed-whacking around the tree bases, house foundation, and edges of the fence has this effect. The process takes more time than the average person would care to spend on two acres, but this is my ritual. The weekday mornings and evenings are for relocating sprinklers across the yard. Like pins on a map, the goal is to get everywhere. The weekends are for mowing and clipping, planting and vole hunting. Those buggers, they seem to multiply like rabbits during a full moon.
People think I am obsessed with my yard, and they aren’t completely off base. This summer I decided to do a little soul-searching, and I discovered why. It’s one of the only things in life I can control. I don’t know about you, but this past year has made me acutely aware of how little control I have over anything happening in the world. The economy, the social climate, political attitudes, wars, or the quest for peace. I’m aware of the larger world, and I feel for it. I yearn for its improvement. What’s worse, even in my small corner of the planet, I can’t halt the fire season, hasten road construction, or control the health of those I love.
Sometimes life feels like a conveyor belt with no off switch, all moving in one unstoppable direction. But I can make my yard look good. I can shape my little plot of land, care for the soil around my house, and create a tiny sense of order for the place my family rests at night. It might not be much, but in the midst of a wild west world, it’s something. I’ll take something.
Now I exit stage right with my wife. We are about to go outside, lie on two adjacent cots, and stare at the stars. What a gift. What a scene.
I am loving the show this summer.
