Last night I sat on the cool, sweet grass and watched the kids chase fireflies. It reminded me of other yards and other trees under which I chased their 20th great-grandfathers. It felt a bit ritualistic, in that I can imagine children hundreds, thousands of years ago laughing, running, cupping their hands around these the most fascinating lights of summer. It brought back such sweet memories of summertime:
1. homemade peach ice cream at Community Watch Meetings
2. the low spot in the yard that was a great water slide after a rainstorm
3. the feel of the air conditioner vent under my feet as I washed/sorted the beans from our garden with my grandmother
4. trying to avoid the melted asphalt patches as we hopped barefoot down the road from shade to shade to cool our stupid feet
5. the bookmobile that parked in front of the Methodist Church
6. Pell City church camps and youth camps, where I truly felt at home with God
7. Washing dishes in the cafeteria summer after summer to pay for being 'at home,' crushes and giggles
8. The sycamore bark that popped off the tree when it thundered
9. Tornado warnings, watches, green skies, the great relief of sunshine
10. Reading and rereading the Little House on the Prairie
We didn't have I-phones, the internet or even a VCR (until I was 16). But we had the beauty of nature, the pleasure of books, the hours of hard work demanded by a garden and a work-your-tail-off grandfather ;o) We had cheese curls, nutter butter bars, tomato sandwiches, homemade sourdough bread. We had caring for an invalid uncle, his waterbed that was a favorite 'parking' spot, decoration day at the cemetery, fireworks over the Guntersville Lake, revivals, fresh-picked EVERYTHING, long walks.
We even had a trip around the world we went on often at night. My dad would pile us kids into the Volkswagon, allowing one the favorite job of shifting the gears and off we would go. Right and down the road over the old bridge, up the hill, and left onto the 'big road' (that means it was always paved nicely ;o), down past the Copeland's garden, over the 'new bridge', and left and up past Emmett Frost's house and Zach and Kristi's house and past the scary old man's house on the corner with the big dogs and the church and the cemetery and then left again past the auction with its cold Grapico and Sunkist machines out front, and over the hill and past the neighbors and home. A circle of imagination, where we looked at the stars and the moon and we went "'round the world." And our 'world' was small, but it was enough.