Summer Thrum

The crickets started chirping the past few nights, signaling summer’s official arrival here in Southern California.

On this warm evening, garages are open, kids find each other and play in the front yards while parents reacquaint themselves with one another as if, despite living two houses down, the preceding three seasons kept them apart.  

Kids who were too young the summer prior are suddenly old enough to run and chase and play.  Older kids, another teenage year under their belt, educating mine on how and when one goes about getting their driver’s permit, eager ears and idolizing questions eventually cause them to retreat back to whatever teenage things they do.  

Some pull in from work.  

Others start their lawn mowers.  

Barbecues of various shapes and sizes start to heat the smells of dinner.  

A gentle breeze feels like an early summer reward for having braved through the heat without the air conditioner all day.  One can’t help but to be taken away by it. 

The kids run from driveway to driveway, they play tag and hide-and-seek.  Whispers and squeals, huddles and sprints; they scatter then find each other again. 

Every now and then a play-ground riddle surfaces that hits me sideways, the same lyrics - only 30 years later.  I tug at that memory deep in the banks of my own childhood with a smile.  

The thrum of people talking, of neighbors whom have been here to watch their kids play, now graduated and moved out; veterans in life, in war, and in so much more, happy to see a younger generation playing in the same footsteps in which their children once played.

The sun begins its setting behind the mountains, leaving ombre skies that fade from blue to yellow to peach; pink starting to make a strong appearance as if the heat from the earth leaves its fiery sizzle behind. 

Pink skies give way to purple then deep blue.  

It’s bedtime, goodbye time.

Dirty faces, hands and feet; tired eyes and energy beat.

They do what’s needed to find their sheets.

One required convincing that ghosts and zombies do not like the rainbows that her toy unicorn shoots over her body while she sleeps.  

Did you know that the rainbows freeze the zombies?  And when they try to get out, the unicorn blows on them, and they turn to sparkling snowflakes, like this … whhhhuuuuu.  

I can hear their heavy sleepy sighs, the ones they swore wouldn’t happen tonight, now coinciding with the cricket symphony outside my open window.  

Cool night air escaping in, 

until tomorrow, 

when we get to start all over again.  

When we can surrender to an unstructured day, we surrender to this wonderful world we’re a part of that includes our children.  There is so much to take in.

                                                                                                                                                                 Shawn Fink

                                                                                                         The Abundant Mama’s Guide to Savoring Slow

Savoring a Slow Day Book Tour for Savoring Slow

I’d like to thank Shawn of the Abundant Mama Project for including me in her Book Tour for her new release, Savoring Slow (it’s a great read!).  What a treat it’s been to be among these great women and writers!  Next in this tour is a fellow Abundant Mama Alumni, Betsy May of Your Nurturing Nook (a deliciously soulful site for Mamas); her post will go live tomorrow so stay tuned!

 © Houseman 2013