b ~ To have squeezed the universe into a ball

‘She looked out over the landscape, still wrapped in sunshine but
distinctly evening quiet, and took in the immense stillness…The
stillness of the evening, the smells from the stove, the taste of the
wine, the sound of the music. She was surprised to realize that she
was filled with a quiet measured feeling of anticipation.’ page 62
from “Astrid and Veronika”

Summer here is blink-of-an-eye short and we try to squeeze in as
much as we can. Here are the things I’m looking forward to– the
things that can only be done at this time of year.

The Summer Manifesto~

I want to spend the short precious moments of these few months:

Hearing
*the click click click of my wheels as I fly over the pavement on my
new-to-me but older-than-me bike
*the birds as they wake me in the morning
*the greeting of a friend as I arrive at her house, ready to spend time
exploring a new city and with her walking on the beach
*the sounds of the kids laughing as the glide down the slide and
kerplash into the lake

Smelling
*marshmallows, done to a perfect coffee-color
*ocean air as I breathe in deep lung-fulls
*wildflowers in a bouquet, given to me from child in thanks

Seeing
*squinting to make out the screen as it’s not dark enough when the
movie starts at the drive-in
*the bits of color in the fields on the side of the road. Flowers
not intentionally planted but choosing to bloom right where they are
*fireworks that never cease to delight me

Feeling
*the bar of the rides at the fair, my heart pounding in anticipation
*the hammock beneath me as it gently rocks, the words in my book
slur and blur and I give over to sleep
*the bite of cold on my face as I open the freezer for a treat
*a hand in mine as we walk side by side
* the weightlessness of the morning when you wake up on vacation

Tasting
*cool, nothing-tastes-quite-like-it, watermelon
*sweet syrup in seltzer, the varieties of flavor please me no end
*refreshing, homemade popsicles
*fast “shack” food for dinner on our way to the drive-in
*creamy gelato while we sit outside, enraptured from the first bite
*just picked anything, fresh from our garden

T’s first word when he was just a wee one, was ball. He held it and tried
to hand it to our dog Bronte. I read something this week about being
united by our first words. What an interesting grouping that would be.
I think that first word was foretelling. Though our lives are not full of
the usual: baseballs, basketballs, soccer balls or those oblong-shaped
footballs; those juggling balls figure into each and every day here. They
are part of the normal routine. Summer makes it easier on everyone, as
the rule is no juggling into the house. (Made after the lampshade became
a casualty.) But it’s that glowing ball, the sun, that beckons us outside.
Wanting us, imploring, that we fritter our time away and play. Summers
were made for it.