July 1

I like summer.

I especially like summer nights.
I like the not-too-cool dark that, like a swimming pool, invites you to step in with more than just one foot. Summer nights are for staying outside, kicking around a ball you can't see or pursuing floating lights through tall glass armed with nothing but a jam jar until you hear your mom calling that it's time to come in!from the front porch and your subsequent requests for just a little longer! are denied.

I like visiting people.
I think I make a stronger-than-usual association between location and camaraderie. It's important to me to be able to visit the people I care about - to be willing to leave my own space and get to know them in their own habitat. It doesn't feel right to pass a friend's house without stopping by to say hello. Sometimes I wonder if this is nice, or a little intrusive.
I assume that my location association is somewhat unusual because if I stop to think, it seems that I try to be other places to see people more often than other people are here.

I like climbing trees. They're very comforting-feeling, and I generally appreciate the view. I notice however, that my compulsion to climb trees has greatly diminished in the last few years. I suspect this is part of the adult society conditioning that I am subconsciously being exposed to. I will not listen.

This is the first summer I've spent this long away from home.
There is no one to call me inside on warm summer nights.
But I also find that there aren't any games to call me in from.
I don't think there are fireflies here, and it rarely stars because of frequent clouding.

I've been wanting to make some use of these warm summer nights, these trees, and hoping for friends to spend them with me.



And I get my wish,
mostly.

Still no fireflies and few, if any, stars -
but check it out:

A warm summer night, carrying our cups of tea, standing around a newly-revealed scummy pond at which we fail to skip stones, climbing a tree with someone who had the excellent timing to stop by for a visit just as we returned home (I note nice and not intrusive).

I realize it feels like summer again.

go little red balloon, *go!