Do you have a summer story you'd like to share? Did you get married in the summer? Did you get dumped? Have a funny story? Poignant? Whatever...please share it here.
I'm reminded of childhood summers on the river. Windy and hot days spent fishing for bream using bologna or bread balls for bait. I was nine or ten and my cousins, weary from splashing and diving off the pier, bobbed like turtle heads in the dark lazy wake. I could hear them talking but mostly long periods of quiet; maybe a whine of a distant boat motor or a squeal of laughter from the pontoons dotting the horizon.
The Pure Prairie League is on the boombox singing 'Amie' and I see my dad arch his back to reach into the foam ice chest for a beer. Wearing only cut offs and sporting a Burt Reynolds mustache, he pops open a can of Miller and squints up into the sun. With half a grin he shows a flutter of recognition as mom walks up in her bathing suit. "The dead has arisen," he says, pulling her into his lap and planting a kiss on her bare shoulder.
Her hair was wet from earlier but drying in uneven curls. "The ham is on low and slow, didn't mean to nap so long." She sat next to him and placed her feet on the deck railing. Drying blood and fish scales glimmered just beneath her from where my uncle had cleaned his morning catch.
We all ate with gusto that evening. Ham, potato salad, Wonder bread and Ruffles chips. A pickle on everyone's plate. In the watery dusk my cousins lit sparklers and walked down to the marina. I stayed behind and watched my parents slow dance to 'Love Is Alive' by Gary Wright. In the shadows I was all but invisible. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
I'm reminded of childhood summers on the river. Windy and hot days spent fishing for bream using bologna or bread balls for bait. I was nine or ten and my cousins, weary from splashing and diving off the pier, bobbed like turtle heads in the dark lazy wake. I could hear them talking but mostly long periods of quiet; maybe a whine of a distant boat motor or a squeal of laughter from the pontoons dotting the horizon.
The Pure Prairie League is on the boombox singing 'Amie' and I see my dad arch his back to reach into the foam ice chest for a beer. Wearing only cut offs and sporting a Burt Reynolds mustache, he pops open a can of Miller and squints up into the sun. With half a grin he shows a flutter of recognition as mom walks up in her bathing suit. "The dead has arisen," he says, pulling her into his lap and planting a kiss on her bare shoulder.
Her hair was wet from earlier but drying in uneven curls. "The ham is on low and slow, didn't mean to nap so long." She sat next to him and placed her feet on the deck railing. Drying blood and fish scales glimmered just beneath her from where my uncle had cleaned his morning catch.
We all ate with gusto that evening. Ham, potato salad, Wonder bread and Ruffles chips. A pickle on everyone's plate. In the watery dusk my cousins lit sparklers and walked down to the marina. I stayed behind and watched my parents slow dance to 'Love Is Alive' by Gary Wright. In the shadows I was all but invisible. Thunder rumbled in the distance.