Summer

Happy 4th of July, and Happy Birthday, America! We enjoyed a beautiful display of fireworks and a wonderful time hanging out with friends tonight. We got to have a picnic dinner (Fried chicken, potato salad, and fresh fruit thanks to Mom!) and we got to sit on REAL grass, which is a treat when you live in the desert.

Summer is definitely here already! The past month has been hot, dry, and cloudless.... I am longing for even a little bit of rain to cool things down. We did have a light sprinkle earlier this week, but I was at work and missed out on it. I sometimes wish I worked outside instead of indoors. There are times when hours will go by without a hint of natural daylight and I miss the fresh air and sunshine!

There is nothing I love more this time of year than the smell of the first rain on the desert. It has a rich, earthy scent, full of promise for a good monsoon season. I remember when I was little, we would get so excited about thunderstorms and rain. We would sit in the house, flashlight ready in case the power went out, and we'd count the seconds between the lightning strikes and the thunderclaps... "One Mississippi, TWO Mississippi......" Then we'd squeal when an especially loud clap of thunder cracked and boomed. After the storm died down a little, we'd go out driving, looking for washes and riverbeds that were running bank to bank with the water from a flash flood. There was something about the tumultuous frothing power of the water current that sent a delicious shiver up my spine.

Summer is magical when you're a kid. I loved going to the pool and swimming and playing Marco Polo until I was tired - a GOOD kind of tired, one of the best kind of tired's there is. We'd climb out and have a moon-pie and a Capri Sun and lie on our backs on the hot concrete to dry off. When we were older, we joined the ranks of the brave - daring to climb on the diving boards - first the lower one and then the awe-inspiring "High Dive". The butterflies would dance in my stomach as I stood on the end and eyed the water that seemed a mile away. In that moment I was a beautiful princess captured by pirates and condemned to walk the plank to a watery grave. Finally I'd screw up my face and let out a squeal and throw myself off into space and certain annihilation, pounding into the water and then racing back to the ladder for more.

I miss the uncomplicated-ness of those days. When my biggest worry was if I would manage to look hungry and cute enough to nab one of the snacks that were meant for the players at the end of my brother's little league games. (I was a pretty good little con artist) Those days were the good days of trampolines and badminton and bare feet. Of lemonade and the smell of sunscreen and the high-pitched hum of cicadas in the trees. They had a magic of their own that can't be re-captured as a grown-up.

I'd like to be seven again, just for a day. To be that little blonde ponytailed girl with the Koolaid mustache, lying on the grass in the sun with eyes closed and a little grin on her face. To do cannon-balls into the pool and ride bikes and run in the sprinkler. Summer was more than just a season to that little girl -it was a gift. And now to this 23-year-old little girl, it's like going back in time to a place that holds some of the best memories of my life.