Here’s What Makes Summer Scrumptious
Life bursts, full-blown, from every nook and cranny
Maybe it’s the warm glow-blanket covering the landscape that makes summer one of my favorite months. Or, summer’s appeal may stem from the distant laughter hanging in the air. Children’s voices linger, floating on the breeze along with water splashing and birdsong.
Then again, what makes summer special might be the heat seeping in our bones, causing us to stroll rather than rush, or the way we look so healthy because the sun’s browned our skin and made the whites of our eyes gleam in contrast.
“It’s the strawberries,” my friend Ali tells me, “and those other summer fruits that speak of abundance and light the berry bushes and plants with crimson and purple.”
My dog, undoubtedly, knows summer rules because it extends his walks. Like the daylight, they creep into sunset. He bounds and dances in the long grass and sloshes in the river with glee.
“Summer,” my father says, “is the season of the butterfly and beetle.” Indeed, insects appear from nowhere in bright shiny covers or with lattice wings. The dragonflies and damsels swoop and glide, skimming the stream that laps at the back of my home, and young trout leap to catch them before plopping back under the shimmering surface.
Next door’s cat might tell you summer’s all about the warm soil on which she curls her ancient body, resting in comfort, or the delight of her people lagging through the day, lazing with her in the garden instead of battening down the hatches like they do in colder months.
Although summer’s pleasures are many, it stands out most because of its ripeness. Life bursts, full-blown, from every nook and cranny, spilling out onto the street from the fields and gardens.
My world bears the sweetest fruit all summer long. People want to spend time together. They have more time to talk and play, and nature surges, exploding with scents, sounds, and the tastes we crave the rest of the year when the season bows her head and retreats once more.
Thank you for the tag Lucy King
Copyright © 2019 Bridget Webber. All rights reserved