Summer

In my house summer is made for adventure.

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There are road trips,

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airplane adventures,

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and days spent laughing until we cry.

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They are old enough now to maintain memories of their childhood.

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As they age I want them to recall the feeling of  wet grass on their bare feet,

the sharp contrast of a dark nights sky and the flickering of lightning bugs.

I want them to smell smoke and remember their momma trying hard to start a campfire and the taste of burnt marshmallows on their tongues.

Time here, in this place, moves so very fast.

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I want summer to be their soft landing, for a few months the slower pace of life that lends itself to memory making.

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