Tuesday 21 June 2011

Summer forty-one.

Hey you're my weakness
Still my lover in my mind
And you still control me
Summer I put you so high
Hey did you forget you could never get enough
Well I'll always love you
No matter how far you run
I forgot to appreciate the lead-in to the longest day of the year. I just noticed two days ago that the sun is now rising with me instead of sleeping in, and the children are restless and hard to quiet when it's time to turn lights off for nine because the daylight still reigns. And now after today the sun will begin dipping low in the sky before we hit the sheets and will be lazy and hard to rouse in the mornings.

Ah, summer. Like a six-week hedonistic birthday in favor of barbecuing hot dogs while still dressed in wet bathing suits. Choosing to do nothing but lie in the shade with a good book. Potato chips as a side dish every night of the week. Staring into the bokeh between the blinding grains of sand juxtaposed against the dark teal and white jagged line of the ocean. Whole days to be planned on the fly as they are spent. Whole days to explore instead of wait.

All year I wait for you and now here you are.

All year I make my mental lists of the things I will do, and I leave it in my head, pushing it away, shoving it into some dark drawer full of memories in that stupid building that people keep breaking into and stealing from and I choose to be superstitious in lieu of disappointment, just in case. I know where I learned to be this way and I can't help it but I know I will push this time. Push past doubt, juxtapose adventure against that stark unfamiliarity and the rarity of pine trees again and the sea. The sea laid out before me as a feast for my sore eyes. A saltwater, stinging salve for my ever-panicked mind.

This is what I live for.

This.

Yeah.