SUMMER
THOUGHTS
There is something magical about this lake country in summer
time. I have had many occasions to be in theme parks in my life, often at great
expense and many miles traveled, but nothing man has ever made rivals the
snugness of a cabin, on the shores of a sandy lake in the summer time. It seems
that all of your senses come into play in such a place. For it’s not just the
beauty of the place, and the wildlife you see, it’s the smell of the pines and
flowers wafting in on soft breezes that mimic a mother’s breath on the top of
her newborn’s head. It’s the sound of waves lapping softly on the sandy
shoreline, always repairing and removing the tracks of intruders; sitting on
the dock in your wet trunks, catching sunnies until your butt itches; the
mournful cry of the loons coming from across the fresh water during a
kaleidoscope sunset, mirrored in the placid waters of some unknown bay, tucked
far away from the mainstream of humanity, as snug as your parents bed on a cold
and scary night.
I grew up in the North Woods of Minnesota, and left to seek
my fortune like so many do, but always, something drew me back from the
fast-paced world I lived and worked at in the city. Something told me that, as
you age, serenity becomes so crucial to your happiness and the woods and lakes
are where it’s best found. For as mysterious as nature can be, it is synonymous
with the untroubled lifestyle you’re now seeking. Maybe it’s some primeval urge
that tugs us back, or was it something in our unexplainable and mysterious
roots that brought us back. But, either way, back we come, as surely as the
swallows returning home from Capistrano.
This land we love so much is sacred to all that live here.
We understand that there are only a few degrees of separation between a blemish
and a blossom in nature’s delicate world. That in summer time, this phenomenon
of nature is most vulnerable because that is when the old gal shows it all off
and hides nothing because, just like us, the flora and fauna too revel in
summer time. I truly believe that when the credits are rolled, long after I am
gone, most of what you will see of my life will have taken place in summer
time. As Celia Thaxter said, and I quote,
“There shall be eternal summer in the grateful heart.” As a side note, in every man’s heart there is a girl
he can never forget, and a summer when it all began.
We live in an increasingly violent world. The winds of war
seem to be constantly blowing all over the world. Social issues seem to spew
hatred and disregard for each other here at home and around the world.
Politicians and politics bring an acidy taste, like rancid bile, to the back of
your throat. Is it any wonder that we try to go hide in nature, like a shy cat
under the bed? That we want to find that quiet place, where our hearts can rest
and mellow in what’s left of this world that we can call good and unspoiled.
That finally we have paid our dues to society and we can now leave the so-called
rat race, and rejoin what was once perceived to be the human race. I have found it’s all right to be lazy
in summer—in fact, it’s almost respectable. It’s the lakes, the cabin, the
forest, birds and animals that give us this respite before we reach our final
reward.
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