Summer

Summer

A bowlful of juicy ripe cherries, a plate of sliced peaches that perfumes our kitchen. Leisurely breakfasts of coffee, eggs, yogurt, fruit and toast. Yearning to feel the ocean, to walk barefoot in the garden before sunset. To climb a tree, to seek the sun.

Dragonflies and shy turtles. Snake birds. Ducks in the backyard during an afternoon shower, a rainfall that cuts through the intense heat. Swimming. The quiet just below the water’s surface. Tan lines and sun-kissed cheeks and noses.

Time slow and sweet like honey,

folding laundry together on the couch with a movie on. Coffee and crackers for dipping and buttering around Nelky’s sunlit dining table. Fruit ripening on neighbor’s trees. Guava, papaya tempting me. Mouth watering.

Daydreams of Italian, Swedish, Finnish, Nantucket summers. Billie Holiday on the radio. Popsicles eaten in the library cafe, a tiny diorama at the museum that offers a glimpse into Monet’s garden, Light and sunshine beckoning.

Summer.

Billie Holiday – I’ll Be Seeing You

“I’ll be seeing you
In all the old familiar places
That this heart of mine embraces
All day and through
In that small cafe
The park across the way
The children’s carousel
The chestnut trees
The wishing well

I’ll be seeing you
In every lovely summer’s day
In everything that’s light and gay
I’ll always think of you that way

I’ll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I’ll be looking at the moon
But I’ll be seeing you

I’ll be seeing you
In every lovely summer’s day
In everything that’s light and gay
I’ll always think of you that way

I’ll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I’ll be looking at the moon
But I’ll be seeing you”

6 thoughts on “Summer

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