 Once the late evening comes, everything remains in shadow, except for the tops of the tallest trees, whose leaves glitter in the last of the fading sunlight. The air in the evening smells deeper, richer. It carries the smell of grass and berries and pollen. Nearby, I hear the shrill screams of children playing. Everything seems so different during childhood. The summer days seem so long and twilight is a magical time. Cicadas chirp in the trees during the day and crickets chirp in the grass at night.
I remember the summers of my childhood. All day, every day, running around outside with friends, building tree houses, playing make believe. And then at night, when the heat would break and the thunder and lightening would come, I’d huddle in my bed excitedly waiting for the next earsplitting crack.
I remember being really happy during those summers. I never even remember being bothered by the humidity. I think it was the freedom of living on a quiet suburban street, able to spend unstructured hour upon unstructured hour finding ways to entertain myself. I was never bored but I do remember always wishing to be grown up. I couldn’t wait to be 18. That was the age when you were an adult and your parents couldn’t tell you to come in for dinner right at the best part of the game.
Now that I am a grown up, I wish that summers were still like that, where you had all the unstructured free time you could want to pursue your every fancy. I’ve been thinking about that a lot as I try to reclaim a little bit of it this summer. All I’m missing is having a yard and a chance to have grass between my toes.
On an unrelated note, I’m thinking that I would also like to ween myself off of evenings full of TV. Instead, maybe I’ll go for evening walks or read a book or do some knitting. Something quiet. I like TV, I do, I just think I’ve had too much of it in my life for a while and maybe summer is a good time to take a break from that. I’m just sayin’.
Sigh. Still sick over here. This morning I was getting so fed up with this cold that I actually took some cold medicine, something I view as a last resort. It wasn’t a miracle cure but it did enable me to breathe through my nose for a while. And it was better than nothing, so I though I’d take the opportunity to return some books to the library and pick up some others that I had on hold. Plus, it killed two birds with one stone since Daisy was getting antsy for that late-morning walk she’s developed quite the ardent taste for.
I briefly toyed with the idea of also picking up some things we need from the grocery store and the drugstore and maybe swinging by the bank, but I changed my mind on that pretty quickly after another excellent sneezefest hit. Besides, leaving Daisy outside the library for a couple minutes while I pop in is one thing. Leaving her outside the grocery store for the better part of a half-hour would never fly.
So I got dressed and ready, books in hand, dog in tow. But, ladies and gents, what do you suppose should be the case when I finally get up said library? The damn thing is closed! That’s right. Apparently, for some unknown and completely stupid reason, the library doesn’t open until 12:30 on Thursdays. I was pissed and confused. I looked at my watch: 11:45. That was 45 minutes until it finally opened. Well, going to the store and the bank to kill time were still out of the question, especially since I’d left what I needed for those trips at home. And the thought of walking all the way home and back again felt like more than my dwindling energy levels could bare. What to do? What to do?
Well, I thought, I do have a bag full of books with me, and I did just pass a park…
So back I went to the park and found a sunny spot in the grass to sit and read. Daisy was confused. When we go for walks we generally, you know, walk. She was not used to this whole staying-in-one-spot thing, not when in foreign territory anyway. After a few whimpers and much sniffing around she got over it and settled in. The grass was damp and cool and the sun was nice and warm. I pulled out a book I hadn’t gotten around to reading before it was due and dove in.
And it was nice, if a little odd for me. See, I never just randomly sit in the park, or anywhere for that matter. I never have that kind of time. Usually if I’m gonna take a break, I take it in the comfort of my own home where, once the break is done, I can quickly move on to the next task on the never-ending to-do list. But this forced impromptu park visit made me remember how nice it is to do things outside by yourself. Not because you’re going somewhere, but just because it’s nice to be outside. It’s something I don’t do nearly as much as I used to since I don’t have my own private yard or anything anymore.
But it was fun and it was relaxing, and maybe during my time off I’ll try out a planned park excursion. Who knows, I may even get a tan! Though I think, in future, I’ll make sure to bring a blanket to save my butt from the damp (tee-hee!)
 You know, it is so much easier for me to wake up when I’m not dreading the day. Most weekday mornings I doze till it’s almost too late, finally dragging myself out of bed after hitting snooze for the second or third time. But any morning I know is my own, I wake up naturally refreshed and happy, long before the alarm is even set to go off.
This morning was like that. The sun rose and I followed, just before 7. Daisy got up with me, ready for her morning walk and so I tied back my hair, threw on a pair of jeans and took her around the block.
I love early summer mornings. There’s always just a touch of cool to the breeze, since the sun hasn’t quite risen far enough to make it muggy and uncomfortable yet. This morning was like that. It was refreshing and awakening. On weekday mornings there’s always such hustle and bustle going on in the neighbourhood, but today was like a Sunday, almost. The streets were all but deserted except for the occasional dog walker or elderly woman watering her garden. Even the pigeons had yet to come down from their roost atop the old school. They still sat up there in pairs and threes, cooing to each other in the weak sunlight.
Daisy, as usual, thought it necessary to smell everything, so our walk was slow. Which was fine by me. On weekdays I all but drag her through her walks, always feeling rushed to get back and get on with whatever else is left to do on the laundry list of daily chores. But no, this morning was leisurely. Flowers always smell sweeter first thing in the morning, right after they’ve opened. I always find it amazing how many flowers can be crammed into the tiny front yards of downtown homes
Eventually we made our way back and, as usual, Daisy demanded immediate feeding before promptly going back to bed for a snooze. But I stayed up, having a cup of coffee, relishing the fact that I had the chance to sit down with a cup rather than having to pack it into a travel mug or buy one on the go. I wish all mornings could be like this: quiet, sunny, warm, calm. Gives me a peaceful feeling that I carry through the day. You know, rather than the frantic and rushed knot in the pit of my stomach that I carry around most days. It’s too bad, really. Something tells me that most mornings used to be like this…a long, long time ago.
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