Dispatches from Summer Vacation
because writing styles want a break, too
I thought this month I’d write a piece about the body, the nervous system, somatics. And…so far, I haven’t. And here we are at the end of the month. That piece is still in me, waiting to emerge. In the interim, please enjoy a little sequence of summery words, somewhere between prose and poetry, that poured out of me the week after returning home from a family gathering on Lake Michigan.
The sun was hot and the air was damp. All anyone wanted to do was stand around the puzzle. Most of the week it rained. The white hydrangeas were blooming, the flowers clipped and arranged in vases with hosta stems and hung upside down on door frames, their petals withering and shrinking.
My sister and I stood over the stove for hours that trip, counting jars and watching berries and sugar bubble and melt. The kitchen overheated and we opened the windows for relief. At night the fireflies emerged and I thought of Megan telling me over dinner that one of her goals was to see fireflies. What's that I asked, thinking: an immersive art installation or festival. You know, fireflies. We both burst into the kind of laughter that sustains you longer than anything else.
All week long I felt like a teenager, watching the Tour de France on the couch and wishing everyone would leave me alone. At the same time, I didn't want to be apart from them, everyone speaking at once and telling stories of the farm. We tracked sand into the house even though we were careful. We took group showers outside, using too much conditioner. My hair loves the humidity.
The first time we walked on the beach we collected all the most beautiful rocks. A few pieces of sea glass, too. Late at night my sister and I arranged them into stacks, letting the shapes and colors please us. One day she and I drove three towns north, foot to the gas, racing to get away. The smog from the Canadian wildfires thickened. Sometimes you walked out of the house and it smelled of campfire.
The town celebrated fourth of July two days early. We walked down to the lake, greeted by explosions. All along the shore clusters of people lit up fireworks. The reflections shimmered on the water’s surface. My cousin said, you have to see this. I longed for the mountains.
Cheers, hope you all are enjoying some summertime flowy days and finding space to relax and renew.