"The children play
in the stream that runs to the sea-
splashing, kicking, dancing,
boys calling, "Watch this!" as they climb the dune
and race down.
"Look – my hair is a kite," the little girl laughs,
"It's blowing in the breeze."
I sit on the warm sand with dry towels,
breathe in the sun, the sand, the salt,
and the pure joy of children at play,
all given as gift
all to be enjoyed."
~Roberta Porter

Yesterday morning as I was heading out to my car to go into the
office, I looked across the street where one of our young neighbors
stood in his front yard. He was surveying the street dressed in a
t-shirt, still wearing his pajama bottoms. He was looking up and down
the sidewalk, rubbing his eyes, no doubt looking for the first sign of
all his friends, now fresh to the aimlessness of summer.

I
stopped for a moment to take in the sight of him. Someplace deep inside
me a memory flickered of how summer felt when I was a child. The
endlessness of days. The sheer possibility of each day and what it
might hold. The gift of walking unhurriedly with a friend,reading a
book on the porch when it rained, staying in my pajamas until it was
time to shift to my bathing suit. A wave of longing and nostalgia swept
over me.In the office, a colleague and I stood talking about
some projects we were working on. As the details and responsibilities
began to mount, she said:"So much for a relaxed, laid back summer!" We
silently agreed and went on our way.

It seems to me it is rare
these days that there is the full enjoyment of what the song
called 'the lazy, hazy, crazy, days of summer.' For the most part we
just keep on schlogging through without allowing ourselves to take in
the fullness of this gift of more light, warmth, and what should be a
vacation mode. For the most part summer is a mind set more than even an
actual suspension of work ethic. Opening ourselves to moving slower,
lingering, allowing the heat of the sun to fill us, savoring the color
and light that will, too quickly, be gone. For those of us who live in
a four-season world, the gift of summer should not be squandered.

It
is Friday. The weekend awaits. Here in Minnesota it promises to be a
beautiful few days. Perhaps the invitation is to remember what it was
like to play outside until the mosquitoes became too fierce. Perhaps
the invitation is to stay in your pajamas until you switch to your swimsuit or biking shorts. It might be time to eat Popsicles for
lunch and sit and stare into the middle distance until the next good
thing comes to mind.

Summer officially begins in less than two
weeks. It is time to begin to practice how to engage in the aimless
enjoyment that is summer's gift.