Dandelions and Creeping Charlie both are alive and well in the yard outside my abode in my little swath of the Midwest. The trees are awash with fresh verdant leaves and while the temperatures have still been moving a bit like a yo-yo, they are climbing up the thermometer as they do so. It can only mean one thing:
Summer is coming.
Around the country and even in other parts of the world, graduations and the parties surrounding them have already been in full swing. Preschoolers, high school seniors and students in college all have walked and gotten their diplomas and certificates. Those not graduating are all ready to be done with the days of scholarly pursuits and get on with the lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer. And while, officially, summer will not begin until 21 June 2022 in the Northern Hemisphere, the kickoff for the summer season will begin, as per usual, on Memorial Day weekend in the United States. That’s this coming weekend.
I tend to have a love-hate relationship with summer. I love the long days and the bounty of sunlight that the season brings. I love to swim, a sport that is easier to do when it is hot instead of freezing. There is a bounty of fresh veggies, usually home grown, that friends and neighbors love to share with me. There’s fireworks at Independence Day and campfires. There are birds filling the mornings with their songs and rickets, frogs and eventually cicadas to fill the evenings with their melodies. Thunderstorms also fill the air with their lights and their magic. The world seems to be most alive in the summertime.
But I hate the heat. I would rather be bundled up under a pile of blankets in the middle of a winter snowstorm than deal with hot, humid, wet blanket feeling that summer can create. Mosquitoes and ticks abound during the season, leaving me feeling as though I have been eaten alive. And while some summer days are perfect for being outdoors, writing and just being, there are other days where I must contend instead with sitting on my couch or at my desk to write in the air conditioning, since I already mentioned I hate the humidity here in my little swath of the Midwest.
But I know others love the same weather I just professed to loathing. And that’s okay. As I love to say these days, to each their own. While I look forward to the autumn season that will follow and enjoy these last fading days of spring and its new growth, I still anticipate good days ahead.
I still try to find the magic. After all, ice cream must be consumed (preferably from the ice cream truck that traverses our city!) and s’mores must be made. There’s hikes to be completed and things to see. The lightning bugs that blink their lights in the dusk inspire me to write stories about fairies. There is stargazing to be had and possibly even a camping trip or two. The other half and I are even planning a trip to visit family in another state later in the season.
After all, I have to continue to write my story. And while this oncoming season is not my favorite, I still will practice the daily commitment to find the good in each day. I will find the moments that make up the inspirations for my writings and my stories. I will find the moments that will become indelible imprints of memories, just as I always have. I will find the magic in the mundane…. even if I have to make it myself.
It is, after all, what I do.
Stay magical, or make your own magic.
Enjoy the moments that make up your life.
And keep pressing onward, writing your own story. For that’s all we ever need to do.
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And as always, #writeyourownstory
K. S. Wood Writes 