Of Fish, and Friends, and Fresh-Cut Grass: Freezing Summer Fast

Can you hear it?

Burring and whirring hums drone a scratchy constant as our backyard neighbor mows. The sound and fragrance are comforting and peaceful, one of summer’s iconic pleasures. Tracing the contours of his yard, my neighbor’s lawnmower rumbles and roars, releasing the sweet green scent of sliced grass. My sprinkler arcs languidly across the back yard, soaking gardens and flower beds, staining the soil and mulch a rich ebony.

Photo Credit: Flickr User Pearl Pirie, Creative Commons, cc license

On the couch, my green backpack still carries two towels, a dilapidated pair of black and white swim goggles, and Daniel’s folded brown camouflage swim trunks. They smell like chlorine from last week’s swim class, and we look forward to tonight’s session. Crumpled kids’ papers from last week’s church Vacation Bible School program line his room, I know too.

“Summer is a-third over,” Mark teased me this weekend, arcing an eyebrow at me.

“No, don’t say that! It’s just three weeks in,” I said, revising and constructing my perspective.

In a season that flies by, I’m trying to freeze time, savor every moment, and live fully present.

At a graduation party this last Sunday, we sprawled on lush grass in groups, balanced bratwursts on our laps, and branched into conversations with the people around us. That Thursday morning in the hallway outside a church sanctuary where one hundred-seventy children and volunteers performed hand motions to lively worship songs, I curled up knees and leaned my head close to hear her.

“Jennifer, you have to meet Tonya,” they had said, and now here we were.

Bending close to hear and reminisce, we talked about towns in West Africa, and the beauty and strength of the Liberian people, and of the atrocities of the Liberian civil war. An hour flew by, and then we exchanged business cards and hugs in the parking lot outside.

At home today, crimson cherries mound in a glass ramekin and Daniel samples a new snack: water-packed sardines.

“Mmm, I love it!”

We pause to examine a tiny fish spinal cord under the microscope, and summer marches on.

Hi friend, what has your first third of the summer been like so far? 

If you are not receiving my posts by email yet, welcome. Simply enter your email address in the box under my bio at the top right of the page. Don’t miss an article and be part of any special invitations too.