Summertime..

Summertime brings me on a journey down memory lane, though time-wise it would be a long one but the memories make the journey just mere thoughts away.  Those were wonderful, warm days of the Northwest that brought frivolity and pleasure to the lives of youngsters.  Being in the outdoors where one could breathe in the fresh, country air and smell the fragrance of freshly mown hay that still lingers on in the far reaches of my mind.

Living in the country was an experience to be cherished for a lifetime.  Late May brought out the strawberries in the nearby fields, ripe for the picking, providing a few weeks of work for young people to earn money for school clothes the coming fall.  That was a time when it was legal, as well as healthy, for children to work in the fields.  June brought out more sun that turned the freshly mown fields of tall grass into hay for the older guys to bale and buck onto the wagon being pulled behind the baler.  When the wagon was piled high it was taken to the barn for the bales to be stacked as cattle fodder during the winter months.

July brought Independence Day with all the accompanying fireworks, picnics and parades.  There were days leading up to the Fourth called the Happy Days Festival, where carnival rides were put up in the local park and other events going on to celebrate our Independence.  What more could a kid wish for than to take in all these festivities to while away the summer days before being back in the dreaded classroom?  Many nights were spent sleeping under the stars on stacks of loose hay, or maybe just on blankets spread out on the ground.  No worry about criminals or anything bad that could happen to us, for we were living in a safe time and place.

There were two summers where we lived on a small farm of five acres.  Bordering our pasture was the Tualatin River that brought many hours of fun.  We could fish there, and there was time I actually caught one.  But the most fun was the swimming hole.  A home-made diving board had been placed on the deep side of the river, with the shallow side maybe 25 feet across.  I was 11 years old when I learned to swim in that ol’ swimmin’ hole.  In my mind I clearly see the first time I took a dive – I must be truthful, it was a belly flop – off the diving board.

Then August would come.  This was the “best of times and it was the worst of times”.  It was “the best of times” because August was the hottest time of the year and most of the summer work for the kids was over, providing more time for fun in the sun.  It was the “worst of times” because it signaled the end of summer was looming near and we would be back in that dreaded classroom.  There was the time I remember in August when we again were sleeping under the stars.  As we were laying there we looked up at the sky and began to notice falling stars.  One could be spotted every couple of minutes or so.  I don’t remember how long this went on but I do know we were soon asleep, enjoying the summer night air.  Now there is nothing in my memory to let me know that this particular night was in August, but as I look back on it the realization struck me that the meteor showers happen during the month of August so I’m quite certain this particular night was in mid-August.

We’ll end this little journey for now.  Thank you for joining with me in reliving such a great time in my life.  May the remainder of your summer days be filled with joy and fond memories of times gone by, as you look forward to the days ahead.  Shalom.