What Summer Means to Me
Summers of my youth were me, tan and smelling of chlorine. Early mornings at swim practice, which turned to full days at the local pool, a return home only for dinner. My toes wrinkled and water logged. My hair dry as straw, bleached from the sun and pool water. Tanner than tan. Tired, the good, bone kind of tired. Catching fireflies in a jelly jar at dusk and releasing them before bed. Each day the same. Each day awesome. That’s what I remember.
What I think my kids will remember. Sandy toes, car, and entryway of our home. Skin salty and sweet. Hair, wild and bleached (just minus the chlorine smell). Waves, body surfing, sandcastles with massive trenches and walls to hold back the tide. Fried dough with lots of powdered sugar. Fireworks on the beach. Farmers market trips for fresh fruits to devour. Sheet forts. Camping trips. Lemonade in mason jars. Ice cream cones… lots of ice cream cones. And the same good bone kind of tired of my youth.
Oh how we have missed you.
Unpack and stay awhile longer won’t you?
“A life without love is like a year without summer. ” ~Swedish Proverb
See more from Everyday Storyteller –Kristin Zecchinelli here.