Childhood Summer Perspective

 It is an unexpected joy, and an unforeseen traveller, almost unrecognized until she crossed my path. The air was sweet and full of pressureless anticipation. The oyster of a world lies a few steps from slumber. Children were playing, people were singing, and the sun shone brighter than it does today.

I took my first steps onto the porch overlooking the lake. The smell of wood, leaves, and grass lifted me off my feet, transporting me fifty years back. It was just another summer day when my father came to me. He and a friend were setting up some new land in western Vermont. They were in a '65 Comet pulling an old late '50s travel trailer. 

We drove up to the rolling western farmlands of Vermont, the green so intense. Farm silos every mile because in those days, agriculture ruled. There was slate all over along the side of the road because this area was so abundant with it.

Forty-nine years ago, we lived on Main St in Torrington. Once that summer vacation happened, it was terrific. The path to the Housatonic River was peppered with crabapple trees and berry bushes. So much to do and take in. If I could give my children the best day ever, it would be to gift them a summer day in my 1970s childhood. To let them have the freedom to not worry about the heaviness of the rotting present times. 

I know that I cannot do that; we can only feel this in memory, and perhaps the finest writers in the world who lived it can bring the reader along. This would be like passing a house through the eye of a needle. I know that some can do it; isn't that right, Mr Steinbeck, as you sit on your porch in the eternal library?

Just for a little while, the air that existed in my childhood summers came to visit me. It was sweet and it was sad at the same time. As I stood there in awe, I heard Neil Young gently singing After the Gold Rush. It was a moment in time that I could never make happen, no matter how I tried. I pause and remember, this is why I live here. I have what I always wanted, and days like this could never happen if I lived where I came from.

It is a cruel joke that life in this system makes you forget about these things. The air numbs us and clouds our vision, preventing us from seeing the beauty around us and the wonderful people we have to their fullest. I don't want to go out in the rain...I don't want to go out in the rain...I don't want to go out in the rain.