Then followed that beautiful season… Summer…. Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape. Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood. ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

2016:  The ritual ice cream cone lasted a little longer, more of it ingested than dripped onto sandals. A visit to the pool and circuit on scooters, quicker, more skillful. Endless quarters fed into Skee ball lanes yielded hard-won stuffed dogs, now bedecked with beaded collars. The thrill of a miniature roller coaster and going it alone.

A small hand, no longer tentative, sought out mine at the water’s edge. Small boy with a big spirit accepted my challenge: catch the waves before they catch us.  Moment after wonderful moment of anticipating, chasing, gleeful splashing as the waves came further and further up our calves to tickle our knees, our tummies, and make us laugh out loud.


2015: Puzzles in pieces all over the floor. Nap times resisted, lusciously long story times much preferred; funny voices, all the better. Ice cream cones, a marvel of confection, served mostly as body paint.  Big sister’s omniscience; little brother’s devotion.

Late, and from beyond the loft wall over which she spied on the adults and their late night Scrabble, a little voice declared she wanted to play, too.


2014: Piggyback rides and first times on a carousel. Beach time as lap time, sun and sand regarded with suspicion from the safe confines of the umbrella’s shadow. Little feet in colorful shoes no bigger than tea cups.

The decorative ruby-colored glass urn at eye-level, for him, was an obvious place to stuff all the plush fish.


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