Senses of Summer

Last evening I was driving around with the car windows open, and thinking about all the ways summer makes me feel good.

Tastes:

Our garden is producing such yummy things. I've only had two grape tomatoes ripen so far, but soon I'll be eating my garden tomatoes like candy. I'm loving the peas and green beans and squash and cucumbers, too. I love picking food in my garden, washing it off, and popping it in my mouth.

Hamburgers. Or anything on the BBQ. And everything that goes along with that.

Popsicles and ice cream. (I like them best when they're melty.)

Fruit: Watermelon. Any melon. Cherries. Strawberries, Raspberries, Blueberries. I still remember the first time I ate fresh blueberries. When I was seventeen and we moved from California to Pennsylvania, I spent the night at a new friend's house, and her mom served fresh blueberries on our cereal in the morning. I'd never heard of such a thing! Bananas on cereal-- of course! Strawberries on cereal--a treat! Fresh peaches on cereal--makes my mouth water! (Can't wait for our two trees full of peaches this summer!) But fresh blueberries (the size of grapes)? I was hooked.

Sights:

Sunshine!

Swimming suits and tanned skin. Sun-bleached hair.

Bicycles, balls, and kids in the streets.

American flags.

Sounds:

Rainbird sprinklers as I go to sleep at night.

Real birds chirping to wake me up in the morning.

Touch:

Warm (even sweaty) skin.

Grass under bare feet.

Toes wiggling in the freedom of flip flops.

Warm evening breezes.

Cool water refreshing sun-heated bodies.

Smells:

Tomato plants.

Cut grass.

Hay. (I actually like some of those farm smells.)

Sunscreen.

So much of my nostalgia is linked to this state where I currently reside. Part of every summer of my childhood was spent here, visiting relatives. Even the 12-hour drive to and from our annual vacation is now a good memory. (Have you seen the picture book called "The Relatives Came" by Cynthia Rylant and Stephen Gammel? You should. It's one of my favorites.)

Last night as I drove, and recognized the perfect combination of summer elements, I remembered a summer night when I was a teenager. I was sitting on my Grandma's front porch swing with her and my cousin, Chad. (I really wish I had a porch big enough for a swing like that today!) My cousin, Troy, drove up in is sporty car. Chad said, "Troy's been out fishin'." It took me a minute to get what he meant by that. Anyway, we hopped in Troy's car (I'm pretty sure Grandma stayed home on the swing) and they took me to Pace's Drive-In for french fries and Pace pops.

Nothing big happened that evening. But somehow, it was just one of those moments that stayed with me and comes back to the surface of my mind whenever I experience that perfect combination of summer senses again.