It’s interesting how the seasons take on different meanings and priorities throughout the various stages of one’s life. It doesn’t seem that long ago that I looked forward to the final school bell ringing, signaling the end of the year and the beginning of summer vacation. In my younger years, that meant evenings playing hide and seek with my younger brothers and most of the kids in our neighborhood. My parents loved to camp, and in the summer we would frequently pack up the tents, boxes of food, and a dog or two, and head for a campground.

Swimming - or in my case, splashing around in the water as I’ve never learned to swim - was done in a lake or river. I could count the number of times on my fingers that I was ever at a swimming pool before the age of 18.

We had no air conditioning in our house, but large cottonwood trees surrounding the property provided lots of shade and great places to hide. On nights when it was really warm, Mom would let us kids sleep on the living room floor downstairs in front of the open screen door. The cool breeze coming in across my face at night was heavenly. Can you imagine your kids sleeping in front of an open door nowadays?

As I entered the early teen years, hide and seek gave way to walks around town with my friends just talking, for hours. Sometimes we would just gather on my friend’s porch and listen to records, dancing and laughing. Summer was special.

When I became a mom, summer took on an entirely different persona. For a number of years, I had a bit of a love-hate relationship with summer. It included daily whining of, “I’m so bored - there’s nothing to do”, coupled with the fun memories of picnics and trips to the lake. Seeing the kids’ eyes light up when they watched fireworks, or hearing their giggles as they were brave enough to get on the little rides at the county fair, are treasured memories.

Now that I am in my 60s, summer has changed again. I am not a fan of the heat, and I strongly dislike bugs. My years of spending several nights a week at the baseball field have transitioned into evenings sitting in my sunroom listening to the birds. I have traded in the tents and camping trips for air-conditioned hotel rooms.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I still love the smell of campfires, the beauty of fireworks, and picnics at the lake. Each sunrise and sunset now brings a new appreciation of the gift of another day. And I have a new generation of young ones to create memories with. Life - and summer - is good.

“Summer breeze, makes me fine; Blowin’ through the jasmine in my mind…” - Seals & Crofts, 1972

Contact Ellen at: ellen@syndicatepub.com