H-E-E-R-R-E'S SUMMER!
Before this morning's sun was half up, the dogs were dragging their tongues in the dust. And now I'm melted into a shape only a hammock can support, watching three kids. Hardly a stitch on any one of 'em. They're skedaddling through the sprinkler, wet as frogs and jumping twice as high. Air conditioning is for adults. Summer is for kids.
I wish I were a wet skedaddler again, scampering through the
sprinkles in my underwear. It wouldn't be proper, of course, at
my age. But what's to commend propriety when its 93 degrees in
the shade? Seems to me that in summer adults are more proper
than smart. Kids know that nothing makes more sense in summer
than forgetting to be sensible. That's why they're 20 degrees
cooler than anybody.
Just how do children beat the heat?
Well, first they shed those encumbering conventions that are
more stifling than the sun. Then they're free to go about in
airy innocence and whatever else feels good. They refresh
themselves with nonsense. They--ah, they do all the lovely,
carefree, delicious things we grownups would do if we could.
And they do it by instinct. No eight-year-old ever has to
consult a Field Manual for Surviving Summer to think of something
cool to do. He already knows.
Remember how it was? Like: walk barefoot to the store for
a frozen ice on a stick. It's important that you be barefoot.
The sidewalk must sizzle your soles so you can be even gladder
that your mouth is icy-cold. Halfway home, when the last
sherbety blob slides from the stick, catch it in your hand and
rub it into your shirt. What a wonderful feeling!
Or drag the old washtub out of the cellar. Set it under a
tree, tip the hose in, and add yourself--clothes and all. While
you're sitting cool, watch a worm wiggle by. That passes the
time and is mildly interesting, besides.
Find a large dog. Soak him down and stand next to him as he shakes himself dry. Kids have never found a dog that wasn't
tickled silly to perform this small favour for a human.
I sense again through children how simple and wonderful such
summer pleasures are. How do they get that marvellous
let-out-of-school feeling? Why, they acquire a hoard of comic
books to leaf through in the hayloft. The pictures help
interpret the text, the hay is fine to lie on, and the horse
doesn't interrupt with foolish questions.
Or, with a couple of friends, they spend the afternoon under
your porch, feeding flies to the spiders and playing tick-tack-
toe in the dirt.
They drop a stone into a deep well and listen for the faraway, moss-muffled thunk.
If mother has to drive to the bank, the laundry, the grocery, the dump, hang your bare feet out one window while the dog hangs his head out the other. Whenever your car is stalled in traffic, kneel on the back seat so you can wave at the driver of the car behind you--it will take his mind off his heat rash.
Take a zigzag stroll around town, sticking your head in every birdbath you see. Thumb the spouts of public drinking fountains to drench yourself and others. Find mud puddles to stomp in. Track the mud through your house to the bathroom and get in the tub with a ballpoint pen. You can while away an absorbing hour drawing pictures on the porcelain.
Summer is happiest when shared with friends. Children cultivate the pals to whom they can say at any old five o'clock,
"hey, you wanna eat over my house?" or who will say to them,
"Hey, you wanna sleep over our back field?"
When it is a child's turn to have friends "eat over," the
scheme is: first, fill up on charred hot dogs. After supper, you
lie in the grass and watch the fire die. Then you gather at the
end of the driveway to play tag until the ice-cream man comes.
For "sleeping over," each sleeper supplies his own smelly
blanket. Whoever is host provides mosquito repellent and
something for breakfast, like a box of raisins. What's customary
is to spread blankets in the chosen yard or field at nine, chase
fireflies until eleven, and then settle down to talk until three.
Any child knows that the saddest thing about summer is that
it doesn't last forever. After Labour Day, he is expected to put
on new shoes, get a haircut, go on to fourth grade.
Such a fate is easier to face if you collect some souvenirs-
-bottle caps, birds' eggs, a one-armed starfish, ticket stubs
from the Saturday movies--so you'll never, ever forget What I Did
on My Summer Vacation. And have something to talk about: "Hey,
wow, you wanna see my garter-snake skin? Or my best kite, only
it's busted? And look, here's where I got dog-bit running through
Doc Wilson's sprinkler."
There's one thing, though, that I myself forgot to save. I wish that on some long-ago, high-summer day, a day that was hot
and smothery-damp, smelling of cut grass and sun-warm hollyhocks,
I had scooped at least a pint of air into a mason jar. Then I
could open that jar today and inhale deeply the scent of summer
past.
Oh, surely then I'd feel like a kid again. Surely then my
heart would once more give a thump of innocent delight, and I
could toss away my most confining middle-aged proprieties, and
seize upon a zillion breezy notions. Surely then I'd have the
wisdom to be cool.(#)
ARTICLE No. 1
THE BIBLE'S TIMELESS--AND TIMELY--INSIGHTS by Blanton
ARTICLE No. 2
A SIMPLE SHORTCUT TO SET YOU FREE by Davis
ARTICLE No. 3
DIARY OF A NEW MOTHER by Geissler
ARTICLE No. 4
THE REMARKABLE SELF-HEALING POWER OF THE MIND by Hunt
ARTICLE No. 5
OPEN YOUR EYES TO THE BEAUTY AROUND YOU by Rau
No. 6:WHAT IS THIS THING CALLED LOVE? by Viorst
No. 7:THE SECRET OF HAVING FUN by LeShan
No. 8:PIED PIPER OF SEVENTH AVENUE by Comer
No. 9:OBEY THAT IMPULSE by Marston
No. 10:THE LOVING MESSAGE IN A TOUCH by Lobsenz
And some more...
No. 11:THE WISDOM OF TEARS by Hunt
No. 12:HAVE YOU AN EDUCATED HEART? by Burgess
No. 13:THE STRANGE POWERS OF INTUITION by Lagemann
No. 15:THE RIGHT DIET FOR YOU by Stare
And still some more...
No. 16:STRAIGHT TALK ABOUT THE LIVING-TOGETHER ARRANGEMENT by Montague
No. 17:...The ABC's of It by Lakein
No. 18:The Day We Flew the Kites by Fowler
No. 19:"Touched by Something Divine" by Selzer
No. 20:How to Live 365 Days a Year by Schindler
Ascend to Second Floor
Recommended.
Ascend to Third Floor
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