Summer is still Magical...

 

I like writing about going back to school. I like writing about the crickets in the kitchen, and goldenrod in the garden, and re-reading “Dandelion Wine” by Ray Bradbury for the hundredth time. But…it is the first week of August, and I should not be writing about any of those things. Not yet. I don’t know how all of this started moving up the starting days of school, but here it is. I guess I really question the “why” of it. I try to think of it logically as in, oh right, they need extra time to read, or they lose too much over the summer. I get it, but then again, I don’t.

Summer is pure magic. Putting the shoes put away until Labor Day, and then, of course, they don’t fit the sprawling, bare-footed child. (How much scrubbing does it take to clean those feet?) We used to have a big pan of water outside the farmhouse door for feet scrubbing, but I doubt any of my boys really had super clean feet until November. I think I was included in that.

Summer is pure magic. Staying up late catching (and releasing) those lightning bugs which are so prominent this summer. If we weren’t catching them, we were biking around after dark or playing hide-n-go-seek until our dads called us home for the night. We always knew the sound of our own screen doors and lamented the fact that the day was over. Who wants a summer day to be over? Not me.

Summe is pure magic. Stretching out on the grass to watch the clouds take shape and change as bunnies or dinosaurs appear in the heavens. While watching the clouds (yes, a little Joni Mitchell here!), chew on the stem of a dandelion or a stray wheat stalk that ended up in the garden.

Summer is pure magic. Camping in a real tent far away from everyone is an August dream. We used to take our tent up to Lake Superior in August after 4-H, after baseball, after chores. We fished in the day (okay, my boys fished, I read trashy novels), told stories by the campfire at night. One year I saw the Aurora Borealis, and it completely took my breath away.

Summer is pure magic. Hauling in the zucchini by the bushel basket and leaving them on neighbor’s doorsteps in the dark of night! Picking sweet corn while the water is boiling on the stove. Burgers on the grills and s’mores at the campfire make for a perfect end to a garden day.

Summer is pure magic. Reading books while dusk turns to night, and then with the flashlights under the covers because, well, you can sleep in if you stay up all night reading! Gathering up those books and returning them to the mobile library as they peruse the town. My friends and I sat on the curb with arms full of books waiting for the traveling librarian with hopes that she remembered the books we wanted!

Summer is pure magic. Visiting relatives and friends gather at the house or the vacation spot filling the refrigerator with watermelons and popsicles and sleeping in every corner possible. My grandparents used to drive their Airstream trailer up to see us at the cottage on Lake Michigan when we were kids. Grandma brought green beans and cucumbers from her garden along with her award-winning pies and cakes. Everything was gone in a day!

Summer is pure magic. I realize that I am a romantic. I think all houses are full of books, the yards are full of lightning bugs, children get to stay home and be barefoot. I know. Lou Ann, you are so full of nostalgia…but why not? It worked for me. It still works for me. I want that magic in my life even though things change. My boys have their own lives, and I roam around in my purple house and my gardens with friends or guests coming and going. I want campfires and lightning bugs. I want clouds and sunsets. I want it all.

So, here is what I have to say with the school year starting in the middle of the magic. Parents, keep the magic. Evenings and weekends can still be magical. Go camping. Watch clouds. Read books til dark. Have campfires. Don’t let the change in the school calendar take away the magic. It doesn’t have to be like that.

Summer is still here, and, yes, it is magical.