A second opinion: : Still enjoying those long days of summer
Posted on Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Summer is here ! Last night was one of those long, delicious, summer evenings. We sat out on the porch in the humid air as fireflies began to light up the lavender shadows, the smell of chlorine and sunscreen still on our skin.
Emily and Isaac chased after the ìflierfliesî until well after bedtime, and the neighborhood children who were out riding bikes stopped briefly to visit.
One thing that amazed me was the effect the last day of school still has on me, even though Iím too old and my kids are too young for it to make any difference to us. When I stopped in at the schools on the last day, I could feel the excitement in the air. I suppose itís conditioning from the many years I attended school, but the first week school was out I felt a lift of stress and a lighthearted joy, even though nothing in my schedule had changed.
Last week I stopped by the Decatur pool to take some summer pictures. Itís been years since Iíve been to Decaturís pool, but I spent a lot of my time there growing up. I think perhaps smell brings back more memories than any other sense. As soon as I smelled the unique blend of chlorine and sunscreen with an undertone of chicken plant, fifteen years dropped away and I was back in my childhood. I would have really liked to dive in, but kaki slacks and high heels are probably not appropriate attire for swimming.
From almost as far back as I remember until about the eighth grade, I went to the pool regularly. One year in particular, I think between fifth and sixth grade, or maybe it was between sixth and seventh grade, I went to the pool with a group of kids from my neighborhood almost every single day it was open.
It was one of the very best summers I can remember. Two or three of the mothers in our neighborhood, including mine, would take turns driving us to the pool. We were probably just old enough to go by ourselves.
Some of the older boys were allowed to ride across town to the pool on their bikes. As soon as we saw them head out, we would start pestering our mothers to take us. My best friend was not allowed to swim until after 2 p.m. because of her fair complexion, so we would wait, all dressed in our swim suits, in front of the TV, bugging our moms.
Last week, the pool was almost unchanged since my childhood. I think they put a roof on the bathrooms and added rubber flooring to the entrance area. I noticed the diving board was much smaller than I remember and the line was much shorter. It seemed we had to wait in a line of at least 20 to 100 kids for our turn on the diving board, and it was a big deal to jump off. You had an audience to impress with your technique or the size of your splash. It was preferable to do something especially daring ó to make a really big splash if you were executing a canon ball or to make the smallest splash possible if you were demonstrating a racing dive.
The only difference in the activities I saw last week was that there was a new crop of kids. They were hanging on the side of the pool, pushing off into back flips and playing all the same games we played.
When I was a kid, there was an adult swim every hour for fifteen minutes. I was always a little frustrated because there was usually somewhere between one and zero adults who took part. I think it may have helped sell snacks, because we would all dig through our swim bags for change and line up at the snack window to buy M & Mís or Skittles. We would line up along the pool in our towels ó daring each other to dip our toes in the water ó waiting for the adult swim to be over.
My mom would pick us up promptly at 6 p.m. The grass and crunch of acorns under my flip flops were a sharp contrast to the cement world of the pool. Our little Honda would be smothering hot, and my mom would line the seats with towels beforehand to keep them from getting wet.
We went home to our separate houses for hearty dinners and then back outside to play. My skin and hair felt crispy as we rode bicycles and horses, played basketball, climbed trees and caught fireflies until the last possible moment before our parents called us in to get ready for bed.
Summer is here, and even if itís not quite as much fun for adults, I still get to experience some of the joys of childhood through my own kids. No one blinks an eye at a grown woman running barefoot through the yard with a jar of fireflies, playing and shouting in the sprinklers or splashing in the city swimming pool... well, not as long as long as sheís accompanied by a 4-year-old and a 2-year-old child.
FEEDBACK:
Something to say about this topic? Submit a Letter to the Editor online