A time it was and what a time it was

We've spent many hours recently (make that many many hours) trying to organize some personal travel around my husband's ever changing work travel. We thought we had finally gotten at least one portion sorted out only to discover we were scheduled to fly two places on the same day later this summer. And that's when my husband let out a big sigh and said, "I'm ready for summer to be over. This is insane."

When did summertime become complicated?

I remember so clearly being a kid and feeling those last few days of school crawl by at a snail's pace as we waited for summer to officially begin. I remember being hot because not everyone and everything was air conditioned. I remember the days stretching out in front of us, seemingly endless and waiting to be filled. Summer wasn't organized, scheduled, or structured ...the hours and days and minutes grew from the seeds of our own daydreams and imaginations. It was a world of possibility and freedom, of time and space.

Running barefoot thru the sprinkler then spreading your towel on the hot pavement to warm up. Lying on your back in the grass and watching the clouds go by. Hunting four leaf clovers. Giant games of hide and seek and kick the can and being outside late, way past your normal bedtime. Catching fireflies in a jar and in your tightly cupped hands. The neighborhood pool. A Popsicle eaten while sitting on the curb, sticky and dripping and sweet. The jingle of the ice cream truck. Riding bicycles with no hands. Friends across the street and around the corner and up the block. Time to play and time to fill. Even time to argue and make up...to discover our strengths and weaknesses within the neighborhood hierarchy without a parent interjecting an adult solution and perspective. Sometimes there was a real honest to goodness vacation, maybe to the grandparent's house or a trip to the beach. But mostly summer was marked in days and hours and often even in minutes.

In our grown up-ness we lose a little bit of our childhood selves. Summertime in childhood was a season whose arrival we anticipated, whose days we savored, and whose ending we mourned. But we grow older and life naturally becomes more about schedule and routine, obligation and responsibility. More clutter, less space. Summer is still there but we no longer view it thru the rose colored spectacles of childhood.

Maybe we should.

Maybe every now and then we need to chuck the calendar and sit on the curb with a sticky sweet Popsicle. Slow down the ticking of time...imagine and daydream and say hello again to the kid we once were.

'Time it was, and what a time it was, it was

A time of innocence, a time of confidences

Long ago, it must be, I have a photograph

Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you."

Simon and Garfunkel

Today's post is part of this week's one word blog carnival...visit Bridget to read more posts on 'summer'