Summer just keeps getting better… Every year, around the beginning of January, in the thick of gloomy days and sun-seeking via the Glory Chair at Whitewater Ski Hill, I realize that somehow, that magical heat-filled glorious season of summer is closer to us than farther away.
February waxes and wanes in a short-month way, March brings us wind and sun and melting snow. April and May offer up teasers, those warm days where the sun’s strength pinks up noses and arms while doing the (endless) yard work of pruning and raking and thatching and prepping.
June, our monsoon month, can be more depressing than ever, a promising cloudless blue sky in the morning is ripped from us as those rains just keep on coming.
Then that luscious July finally dawns, the delicious heat is present by 7 am while I sit on the deck sipping my coffee. I regret my fluffy white robe those days and start to don a tank top and shorts upon awakening to avoid the over-heating so early. Gardens are in and finally take off. Shoulders get brown, those endless bottles of sunscreen make their appearance, cluttering up my counter. The need for clothing is relatively small. Watering my flowers is a daily devotion. My car is full of fins and masks, beach chairs and blankets, an air pump for all the floaties. Towels drape over every available chair on the deck to dry. Chips and cherries become lunch, supper is cooked at 8 in the evening. The Beach calls to me, the Lake beckons. That prickly tight feeling of sun-washed skin is probably one of my favourite feelings in the whole world. NOTHING can match the quenching dives into this lake I am so blessed to live by. Early morning plunges after my run, mid-afternoon meandering swims that take me way out into the Bay, dusky dips with my husband. Naked or not, long or short: these swims are a balm to my soul. And the scent of the water…. My god, it makes me giddy. A slightly fishy smell, a clean smell, a warm smell. No other lake smells like this… Believe me, I am that weird girl that sniffs other bodies of water.
Drinks with my besties on the boat. Long lazy gabs while watching our children play. There is no better time to solidify friendships than summer. Baseball games, BBQs, beers. House cleaning? It’s at the bottom of my agenda during the summertime. My priority is to be outside as much as possible.
Mounds of fresh fruit dot the counter. Epic canning days loom in the middle of August. Jars of jams and jellies slowly creep up in population in my pantry. My floor is in a constant state of sugary stickiness. My home becomes a mecca for the eternally annoying fruit fly.
Our seasons are ripe in clarity and richness, each clearly defined in their own magic. It is this that makes summer so rich for me. The precious hot and sun-filled months are more treasured because we survive those gray and cold months. (Yes, we survive…. by grabbing the season and wringing it of the fun and joy each one can offer…. letting no possibility of enjoyment escape us… I admit I do love winter for it’s own gifts.)
Summer is the icing on the cake, it is the lush reward for a hard day’s work. Summer is the best time of the year.