Memories of Summer

 

We heard our first cicada of the year this past week. We were out walking Lexi and heard it buzzing…and just stopped. We stared at each other and simultaneously said, “Isn’t it way too early for this?”

            I’m not ready for the sights and sounds that signal anything remotely close to the end of summer, but I am enjoying a good bit of summer nostalgia lately.

            I think it started with the sun tea jar. We saw one not long ago and it reminded me of how my mom always made sun tea when I was growing up. She had one of the glass jars with the spout on the bottom, and she would fill it with water and tea bags and put it on the back porch on summer mornings. By lunch time, we had fresh sun tea ready to drink with our lunch. I loved all iced tea, but there was something special about sun tea. It was one of the things I couldn’t wait to make for myself when I grew up and had my own back porch.

            Yesterday, one of our neighbors had sheets on the clothesline beside the lake. I actually didn’t know anyone in the neighborhood had a clothesline, but seeing those sheets blowing in the wind reminded me of when I used to run in between the sheets on the clothesline when I was little. Mom would wash sheets on Saturdays and hang them outside to dry. On the hot days, I loved running down the middle of the line, letting the cool, damp sheets hit my sun-kissed arms.

            We haven’t seen a lot of lightning bugs around here yet, but I used to chase those through the yard when I was little – the only bug I didn’t mind catching with my bare hands. I would hide them between my hands and wait for their glow to shine through the cracks between my fingers before I set them free to fly again.

            Summer also meant shucking corn, marigolds growing on the edge of the garden, drinking ice cold water straight from the hose, pumping my legs on the handmade wooden swing that hung from the perfect branch, and sitting on the porch swing before bedtime.

            It meant stacks of books to read for the library summer reading program, Vacation Bible School at church, and keeping a journal on the annual family vacation.

            During the years our neighbors had a pool, it meant swimming all day and eating popsicles and orange ice cream push ups during breaks from the water. It meant running through the tall grass of the vacant lot between our house and the neighbors’ and hoping I didn’t find any animals hiding in there.

            Summers were beautiful then, and they’re no less beautiful now. A bit more work, perhaps, but no less beautiful.

            How about you? Favorite summer memory from days gone by?