Summer…at long, long last…is here. A meteorologist friend of mine says that this Chicago summer with its cool temperatures and refreshing breezes may in fact be just a break between winters. This warmth is toying with us, really. A mere flirtation with no real intentions of any sort of commitment.
Most likely, and unfortunately, my friend is probably right.
And I’ve been away from this place a bit. Away from this screen. Away from the twitter and the Facebook and the constant calling for attention and draining of energy.
My fingers are spending less time dancing on the keys and more time applying sunscreen. My daily attire of yoga pants has been traded in for sundresses and actual yoga wear. As in, the kind that one wears to actually go to yoga class. And zumba class. And ballroom dancing class.
My feet – our feet – have left the comfort of a warm pair of socks and headed out for the feel of the still soft grass and the sandbox sand and the patio brick.
As it should be.
This summer I hope to make a more conscious effort to refill my tank. More conscious, because I sense myself sputtering. The warning “low fuel” light, thankfully, has illuminated. And I’m aware.
Thankfully, I’m aware.
The plan is simple. To take in the warmth around me. To notice my small ones as they become less so. To enjoy a patio chair under a starry sky, my better half at my side.
To soak in the summer, for what does in fact feel like a brief respite from too long and too dark a winter.