Chasing Grace

I hated school with a passion. When it was finally summer, I was probably the happiest kid you’d ever want to meet. I was thinking back today on what summer was like for me as a kid. It all sort of runs together in my memory into one big summer.

Here are some highlights:

• Kittens all over the yard. There was an old luggage carrier thingie that my dad used to strap to the top of the car when we’d go on camping trips. It was being stored in the garage, and that’s where Mewsette decided to have her babies. That was Kitten Summer, and it was grand.
• Going to the park. This was before parents were scared to death to let their kids out of their sight. I was able to roam the neighborhood freely and without fear. There was a park close to the house that I would walk to. I remember once running the length of it at full speed, and feeling as though I could simply take off and fly. I imagined an electric current running from the ground, into my feet and up through my body into the sky, till I believed I could actually feel it. It was exhilarating. I collapsed at the far end of the park under a tree and daydreamed of riding a flying horse. Later that night after dinner, there was a tremendous thunderstorm. In my little kid-sized brain I wondered if I had brought it about because of all that electricity I had flowing through me when I ran through the park.
• Climbing lots of trees. I have always loved trees and still do. I feel a connection to them. (No, I’m not a tree-hugger, thank you!) Whenever my mom wasn’t looking I’d be up in a tree.
• Camping in Yosemite. My family did this every year. (That’s when my dad would use the luggage carrier). This when I developed my love for the smell of campfires and hot dogs cooked at the end of wire coat hangers. We feed peanuts to squirrels and waded in the streams. At night we’d bundle up and watch the Firefall off of Glacier Point.
• Swimming at my grandparent’s. They lived in Burbank and had a house with a swimming pool. There was a patio for barbecues, a pool house, outdoor shower, canopied picnic area and perpetual family parties. Everybody drank beer, smoked cigarettes and wore flip flops. I learned to swim in that pool and remember a succession of floaty toys. It was a magical place for me.
• Colored chalk on the sidewalk. I would transform into an concrete artiste for as long as the chalk lasted.
• Ice cream. Chocolate, strawberry and rocky road… sitting on my porch, or front steps, or backyard swing set, or at the kitchen table. Summer means ice cream, and ice cream means summer. It did then, and does now and always always will.
• Naps. I think I developed my taste for afternoon naps as a kid in the summer. There was something in the breezes, the angle of the sun, the smell the outdoors wafting through my open window that would invite me to close my eyes and sink into a pleasant torpor. I’d fall asleep on the couch, or outside in my yard. Naps were, and still are, one of my favorite escapes.

Summer’s are great. Although I’m all grown up now, and don’t like being hot, don’t climb trees anymore, and can’t eat ice cream like I used to. But I still enjoy naps, whenever I can take them.