I can hear the Red Sox wind chimes outside the kitchen window. The wind is coming out of the south tonight, which means that it’s going to be a warm day tomorrow. Funny though, just a couple days ago, it felt like Fall was here for another season. I guess I keep forgetting that this is Maine, and if you don’t like the weather, wait a second.
Summer has come, and summer has gone, and with it’s departure, so many things change, including my attitude. I don’t mean for it to change, but it does anyway. I guess as I get older, I look forward to the cold less and less. I’m so different now than when I was a kid. Way back then, I loved the cold, the snow, the winter chill on my face. I loved the frosty panes and the icicles racing to the ground. I loved the snow, the slush, the cracked ice and I loved the evening glow as the sun settled down for another night’s sleep.
Oh how long ago that seems now. Oh how I crave those same feelings now. Oh how I could go for a king size 5th Avenue bar right about now.
Ok, I’m back. Sorry.
The garden I have been working in all summer is winding down, and I am wondering where the time went. It seems just like yesterday when I was planting the carrots and plugging in the broccoli plants. It seems just a few hours ago that I was planting the super chili and rainbow bell pepper plants. It sure was a hot summer, wasn’t it? I mean, I think we used the air conditioner more this summer than in a while.
I try to stay in the present as much as possible. I seem to get more done when I am living in today. The more I do, the better I feel, but the better I feel, the more I think about the old days and how they seem such a big part of who I am and what I’m all about. I noticed this summer while knelt down in a row, weeding away like a weed ferret that I would wander back and forth, between here and then, from the past to the present, and away I would go, without a map, without any road signs, without a timer or a schedule or a care in the world. There I was, weeding away, and away I would go, usually ending up somewhere in my childhood, wandering on a beach, walking through a field of dandelions, riding my bike down Kingsbury Hill, having the time of a kid, and then, I’m back, wondering when the row of carrots was going to end. I went to so many places this summer, and I never had to leave row 3, or 5, or 2. My bags were packed, my tickets in my hand, my lemon drops in my pocket, and away I would go. It doesn’t take much for me to zoom back through the years and instantly appear back in my driveway in Little Falls, or suddenly dash over the waves and into the ocean at Pine Point, or dive off the wall at North /Gorham. The thing I love the most is when I go back in my mind, and the same feelings come rushing in at me, reminding me perfectly just exactly how it felt and what it was like. It’s a kind of magic that I thank God I can feel. /The feelings, the senses, the smells, the rush of blood down my spine, it doesn’t last long some times, but even if for just a split second, well, there’s nothing like it. I remember one summer night when I was a kid, sitting in the living room, staring out the front picture window. I got a warm, soft, comfortable feeling like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. It was a cool breeze coming in through the window, it was the crickets outside the window, it was a perfect night, ending a perfect day, and it was all mine. It was all mine, and I was a part of it, just the way I was supposed to be.
I have carried a lot of those feelings, those experiences, those wonderful occasions with me into the here and now. I’m not the same person as I was back then, but I do harbor the same emotions and sometimes, if just for a second, I am propelled back to the same place, with the same feel, surrounded by the same glint of perfection that I felt back then, and let me tell you, nothing snaps me back to attention more than that does. It’s like I plug myself into an electrical socket and recharge instantly. Perhaps it’s because my mind was so wide open back then that the experiences were heightened by a factor of eleven or so. No matter, I know how I feel and I remember how I felt. Too bad there wasn’t a way to bottle all those incredible kid highs so I could tap into them whenever I felt the urge.
I love listening to Jack, my grandson as he experiences some of the same emotions. I hear his tone and it brings me back to the days and ways of old. I listen to the excitement in my grandson’s voice, and then, I think back and remember.
I love it when that happens.