Summer: The Best Is Yet to Come

We celebrated the last big event of the season. On July 7, our grandson Zeke and his fiancé, Lexi, were married in an outdoor ceremony. Behind them was a chapparal-covered hill. A manicured park surrounded the couple and their guests. The ceremony seemed almost ethereal—most likely because I have seldom seen two people more in love. 

After the last toast, John and I made our way home. As we drove through Hidden Valley, home to horse farms, fields of lavender, and a new vineyard, the sun slipped behind the mountains and the rich colors of twilight bathed the fields and hills in shades of magenta and purple. By the time we opened our door, the neighborhood was clothed in deep-red light—to my eyes, the most beautiful time of the day. 

Of course, we were greeted wildly by the canines. You would think we had been gone months instead of hours. We flopped on the couch and happily submitted to a dachshund “love-in.”

The next morning as I was drinking an enormous cup of coffee, I was ruminating on the rest of the summer and how the unscheduled time rolled out like a red carpet. I was reminded of the party on the last day of 8^th grade, which for some reason I remember vividly. Summer seemed endless, and all of life shimmered in the future. 

Well, at our age, summer is not exactly shimmering. It’s more like a gentle glow. The thought that we could do anything and go anywhere was enticing, nonetheless. So I wandered over to the wall calendar. We have three calendars: two by the phone and one hanging on the wall. (It takes all three to ensure we show up where we are supposed to be.) There in John’s tiny printing were several appointments. I had forgotten about his physical therapy …

Oh well. A stay-cation is okay, and maybe that would be better. 

We have been blessed by mild weather as a persistent marine layer visits us every night. I know hotter weather is in the future, but that’s okay because family show up to swim in the pool and stay late for takeout, and we can always drive the six miles to the coast.

The more I think of it, the more I like the idea of the rest of the season being unplanned. Spontaneous meeting up with family and friends, wallowing in nature, trips to museums and historic venues … We may even go to a movie! Oh, and playing with the dogs—lots of sitting with and playing with our chief entertainment. And reading—we both have a stack of books waiting. After the hectic beginning of the season, this sounds like a mini version of heaven.

So, my dear readers, all this rhetoric to let you know that over the next month or so, blog posts may be sporadic as I immerse myself in an unplanned life. I wish all of you the best that this time of year has to offer: from corn on the cob drenched with butter and sprinkled with salt to sitting outside watching the sun set on a soft summer evening while the crickets make music.