Summer Sights

How I long to return to the Summer of my life, When days were so long that they required a nap or a refreshing splash through a tadpole-infested creek to make it til night. Yet, still, my eyelids raced the setting sun to see which would douse the glorious light of the day first. Summer conferences were held in the privacy of a field of wheat, Concealed in the rows, chewing a stalk between our teeth and whispering earth-shattering childhood secrets, Including our greatest fears and least favorite vegetables. In the Summer of my life not even darkness scared me. Dusk was the greatest of all miracles of summer, when fireflies, in consideration of children unwilling to leave the glories of nature but paralyzed by the terrifying noises of the night, burst forth in waves like tiny torches leading us on to more adventures and finally home. Now, as I approach my Winter of life, having marched solidly through the fall while raising a family of my own, Summer sights fill my dreams, both day and night. Barefoot in overalls, skinny dipping without the slightest notice of gender or sexuality, gulping lemonade and eating watermelon, seeds and all, these are the things I miss the most. In my life, I will see many more summers. But I will never again live the Summer of my life. I wish I had known how magical climbing the biggest tree in the woods or digging my way to China then napping in the cool earth I uncovered, could be. In hindsight, though, I believe the innocent naivety is part of Summer's charm. So I will use Summer to keep me warm in the long Winter to come. I will pretend the sun is beating down on my youthful, freckled skin as I fight the ravages of time with cream and Botox. I will lay in fields of golden wheat chewing on just one stalk, not in my medical bed with the oxygen tube in my nose. And when I see fireflies, I will know it is time to go home.