Since moving to my lovely apartment, I've been enjoying the seasons so much more. I think it's in part the relief of having maintenance to do the repairs, and in part because this place is so filled with light. I sit here, at my antique secretary desk (as a child, I repaired the chips at the corner of this old, beautiful piece, by filling those chips in with Elmers glue. Surprisingly, still there.), at half past 8 at night, and I have a window to my left and one in front of me. I can see brilliant green grass, the branches of trees out both windows, and am listening to the birds chirping a chorus. Beautiful!
Summer brings to mind ice cream, cut off denim shorts, and pool-side chats. I remember summers as a child. I'd ride my tricycle around the sidewalks, and sometimes on the grass. I played for hours in the sandbox my father made for me. I ran through the horseshoe shaped sprinkler with my sister and brother. And we drank kool-aide by the gallons.
I remember summers spent on my trusty green ten-speed, ranging all over Sterling Heights, with my best friend. We rode our bikes, wearing those too short cut off jeans, raveling at the edges, until we were tired, or bored. Then we'd stop, and split a two litre of Pepsi. Always Pepsi. I don't even know why.
Years later, I was the one hooking up a sprinkler, making the kool-aide, and buying those bikes. The sound of my children's laughter as they played in the water is a precious memory to me.
I still have that ten speed, though it's living down in my basement storage room. One day soon, I'll pull it out, take it to that bike place in Swartz Creek, and get new tires, and thingies greased. I still wear denim, though now it's full length jeans, or my favorite faded capris. And I still have that best friend, and it's stronger than ever.