the memories we made.

Summer lavished upon us a hazy golden light. She stole my heart away and buried it under the waves of the Sound, slipped it into the sticky kisses of children, left it blowing in the wind on top of the mesa at sunset, tucked it into the evergreen boughs and left it in the hugs and laughter of my friends. She stole my heart away, locking it forever in those memories.

With her, with summer, we camped in the desert and swam in the bay. We sailed and kayaked and jet skied on the lakes and hiked up and around mountains. We went shopping in the city and wandered through small towns. We read. Picture books, memoirs, bird books, adventures, histories, science fiction. We read them all. Barefoot was the new fashion statement. And somehow I think we all helped that box of rice krispie treats to never stay full.

It was summer that compelled us to slather ourselves in greasy sunscreen and lay out on the grass for hours under that great warm orb that hangs in the sky. Because of summer we woke up early in the morning to hear the birds sing and have the quiet of the world all to ourselves. We ran on the lawn and threw the tennis ball. We tried spinning cartwheels (some of us succeeding and some of us failing). We pushed each other on the swing and slammed that screen door shut.

Summer drove us indoors to watch superheros save the world. We drank smoothies and lemonades with abandon. Summer let us adopt playing card games as the daily norm. We ate marshmallows and popcorn and chocolate covered everythings and fruit snacks and tacos and sourpatch and cornbread slathered in butter. We set off fireworks and sang loud in the car and took hundreds of pictures, to go along with the memories.

We rose with the sun and went to bed long after it did. Singing loud couldn't be helped, wasn't helped. Dancing was a requirement. We laughed and teased each other and talked about our dreams.

It was a glorious adventure. And adventure full of love and light and laughter. Shared with friends and family and brothers and sisters and cousins. And even as we were glad to come back to our own house, and our own beds, we dreamed about the next summer. And missed them. And were thankful for the memories we'd made.