That State of Summer Awesome
Ah, summer, the long lazy carefree days. Just thinking about those times makes me want to stop adulting, turn back time, and go there; to be immersed and present in that time, in order to replicate that zen, that state of simple well being. And then bottle it, so that when the present moment has me fretting for any reason, I can just open the bottle inhale deeply, and restore that state of summer awesome.
I have many fond summer memories. I feel as though I was often skipping or riding my bike everywhere. I can taste the exhilaration of swinging high enough , that I swore I could touch heaven, or at the very least a big white fluffy cloud. Or playing in the rain. Most kids ran for cover, but not me. I loved it, the cool refreshing drops on my face, the smell, the way it felt, as if the world was washing the slate clean. But, my favourite summer memory was the hammock.
It was blue, it was made of mesh, and it left diamond shaped indents on my legs when I was in there too long. It came with other dangers too. Especially when my brother got it in his head to flip it. I’d literally go head over heels as I was flying out of the hammock. Or, when the squirrels high in the mature trees above started to chew the walnuts, bits would fly everywhere and hurt when they made contact with my head.
But, mostly it was peaceful. That summer, most of my friends were in camps since their parents worked in the day. And well, what sister wants to hang out all day long with her brothers? On the hottest of days, the hammock was the greatest place. It was cool in the shade, with the sound of the leaves in the trees rustling above. The birds chirped happily. This was it: bliss. It was a meditation with nature sounds CD soundtrack, before they even existed. I loved those days. I would go to the library on my bike, and return triumphantly to claim the hammock and read. I’d get lost in those books, surrounded by the cocoon of the hammock, swaying gently in the breeze. I could read an entire novel in one sitting. I don’t know if it was that time stood, still or if truly in those moments I had mastered simply being present. It was heaven.
I do still love to be in the shade of the trees. The layout of my yard though doesn’t allow for the hammocks you attach to trees, but thanks to the joys of retail, there are the ones that come on stands. I think it’s time to start a new set of memories. And, while the new dangers herein lie with the likelihood of one or both of my kids wanting a turn on this new hammock, I can taste the return to stillness, making it worth the risk.