Checked Out

It happens to me like clockwork. Like the seasons that turn... Like the buds that know when to burst open. I come out of my winter-induced, self-imposed hibernation. The great oaks and maples that grace my backyard are now in full bloom, dressed in their emerald robes - their great branches now form a canopy that shield much of my back yard from the bright hot rays of the summer sun, offering respite and a place to relax in the shade.

My backyard is now completely private - It's quite expansive as we've got nearly an acre. In the fall, winter, and early days of spring I can see out my living room window for as far as the eye can see. I'm less than a mile away from the Long Island Sound and while I cannot see the water from here, on a clear day I can see the large ferries that sail past me carrying passengers to Port Jefferson, NY or to Bridgeport, CT. From my window I can watch the seasons change. I watch as the days get longer and shorter. I can see the morning sun rise and shift positions ever so slowly. In the fall she rises to the right. In the spring she rises off to the left. I'm an early riser and never miss a sunrise. While the bare trees can make us sad, there's a beauty I see once a day that is spectacular and breath-taking and it is fleeting and if not for those bare trees I would never see it.

I can no longer see the sun rises early in the morning. But the beauty that comes with the great green wall that surrounds me is equally is wonderful. For there's an entire eco-system that lives just beyond my back door. We've chipmunks and rabbits and deer that graze upon our property. While I leave in fear of deer ticks, there's nothing like watching a Momma deer and her young graze upon the grass. We've more kinds of birds than I can identify - robins and cardinals, finches, barn swallows and chickadees... blue jays, wrens, mourning doves, humming birds and woodpeckers. Yesterday I watched as two large yellow-winged butterflies swooped all around, resembling miniature kites off in a distance...

I've slowed down. Summer does that to me. All year long I force myself to slow down and during the summertime it comes naturally. It's not that I get lazier (though maybe I do) but I attribute it to the warm weather and all the great things that come out in hiding. When I'm not at the gym I walk my 5K loop down by the harbor, to the beach, around another loop and back. I'm not a runner. I walk quickly and with a purpose but I become lost in my reverie and the beauty that surrounds me. I'd miss all that if I was a runner.

I suppose I've checked out... I'm done with school work, making lunches, shuttling kids hither and thither, spending hours a day in the driver's seat while juggling work and deadlines. I'm just as bad as the children, really. They've checked out too. Perhaps it's that after a really long winter, the warm weather is finally here and I want to run out and take advantage of it. Perhaps it's because Memorial Day has now come and gone and in my mind summer has officially started. Pools have been opened. Beaches have been as well. The sweet smells of summer barbecues intoxicate as their wonderful aromas are carried along in the gentle breezes. Lawn mowers can be heard buzzing in the distance. Is there nothing so wonderful as the smell of a freshly mowed lawn? Is there nothing so wonderful as the feel of freshly cut grass underfoot? The smell after a rain fall? The way the warm sun feels on the back of your shoulders? How wonderful it is to leave the house and not have to toss on layer upon layer of warm clothing? To stay out later and enjoy our long days? I, like the children, want to be outside and breathe in the fresh sea air and not be cooped up indoors all day! I don't want to work. I want to play! I want to take a nap in the hammock under the shade of my great oak tree, or take a nap on the couch on the porch, a pile of magazines, a good book and my iced tea by my side.

What is it about summertime that does this?