Summer Hibernation

They met somewhere between the avocados and the sweet potatoes – the familiar faces once obscured by summer throngs – hidden, concealed, sheltered in place – in backyards, neighbor’s houses, or the comfortable recliner near the window fan. Climbing out on occasion for early morning errands – the bank, the post office, the grocery store.  Not wanting to go too far into the heat of day, the lines of traffic - risking combat with aggressive drivers and never able to find a place to park. Everyone seems to have their war stories often proclaiming, “it’s busier than ever this year.” Truth be told, I think this year they were right.

Perhaps it’s a global happenstance- more people on the planet mean greater crowds just about everywhere- moving out from the epicenters into the nooks and crannies. And if that nook and cranny offers beautiful beaches, breath-taking views, topnotch restaurants and stellar entertainment – then how could it not have become one of the most sought-after destinations? And how could we not want to share it with others?

Frosty winter days used to transport us to dreams of summer – the way things used to be- sunsets and beach days and toasting marshmallows; bike rides and ice cream cones and family barbeques. How could that all change within one lifetime- or does every lifetime require that change? Are we just experiencing what every generation has -the pivotal transition from then to now?

As I choose the two avocados that seemed to be calling my name, I look up and smile and remember – “Where have you been Mary and Carol and Diana? Great to see you in the light of day. Wow! Your son has really grown, I wish I could remember his name!” It’s so nice to once again feel that connection of community and commonality and shared memories.

We may never again feel the seclusion of our small beautiful village, we may never again walk within the freedom of isolation and spaciousness but every once in a while, we will remember and reclaim all that used to be- our home.