mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Summer At A Distance This weekend was spent in the Methow Valley celebrating my wonderful husband's birthday. The surrounding mountains alternated between patches of powdery white snow and brightly scattered wildflowers and there was the distinct smell of summer in the air. We stayed at a charming log cabin lodge, a roaring fireplace at the foot of our bed. There was a deep and cozy tub which I filled with bubble bath and took full advantage of, soaking with a good book for hours at a time while Pete flyfished the lake behind the lodge. We drank red wine in the evenings, watching the sun sink out of sight amidst hues of yellow, red, and pink. Days were spent hiking and talking about the future. Perhaps someday soon we'll get some land out of the city and put a little yurt on it. Something near a lake or a stream would be perfect. A slice of heaven in the woods. When I was a child my parents purchased a small bungalow in the Catskill Mountains. It was nothing special to look at, really just a wood shack with two large bedrooms, a small kitchen, and a screened in porch. It wasn't heated so any visits to our "country home" had to be made between June and September. That was okay, somehow I think the limitations of the structure make it seem even more divine in retrospect. I recall never having to wear shoes while at Fume Bella (that was the name of our refuge - it's Italian for "beautiful stream"). You know that feeling of soft grass squishing between your toes? Oh how I love that. I remember catching lightening bugs in mayonnaise jars in the early evening and barbecuing hot dogs over an open fire every night. There was no television in our "country home," just a small radio which picked up a few AM stations. At night, we'd sit on the porch and listen to the local news. "One of Farmer Johnson's heifers has wandered out on to Walnut Creek Road, so please be careful if your driving that way not to hit Bessie....." We played cards with vigor in those days. My parents taught me several games (Poker, Gin, Pokeno, Scat) and I mastered them without modern distractions such as the Atari 2600 to get in my way. I had a fishing rod that I'd dangle off a rickety, old wood bridge overlooking the stream. I don't believe I ever caught a thing. My mom would buy a package of sparklers and light them for me one by one as dusk settled over us and I'd run wild with bolts of light trailing behind me. What stands out most about those days is the pure freedom of it all. When you're a city kid, your moments of liberty are far and few between. Urban environments can spell danger in so many ways. Watch out for speeding cars who will plow into without a second thought! Don't touch anything, it will have germs and make you sick! Hand over your Halloween candy for checking as it might contain poison! Never talk to strangers and never EVER stray out of the sight of a grown up! Too many nuts out there in the world! None of those rules applied in the Catskills. In those summer moments, I was fearless and free to roam. So as Pete and I cruised down a country road with a bit of Honky Tonk playing on the car stereo, I found within myself the contentment of summers past and the longing for summers future. And I thanked my lucky stars for all that I have and all that I have become. 1:17 p.m. - 2003-04-21 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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