Just breathe …
Some would have you believe there’s no such thing as summer on the Monterey Peninsula.
And if there is, they say, it’s a momentary mercury blip come September or October. Or sometimes January.
Seasons? What seasons?
But there is something about June, July, and August that has nothing to do with whether the Peninsula gets into the 90s or not. It’s a sense. Something that falls on you like fairy dust when you’re young — and then sticks. Something you can go back to no matter where you live or how you count the years. No matter the weather.
Summer is vacation. Water Wiggles™ and never worrying who might be driving the ice-cream truck. Running through sprinklers, staying out past dark, and the sweet sound of the tattered baseball sticking in your Mickey Mantle-autographed mitt.
It’s barbecues and bare feet. Asphalt so hot you have to dance on the tips of your toes to make it across. Bathing suits that fit. Disneyland, Creamsicles®, and drive-in movies.
Road trips and seeing the relatives. Outdoor concerts and only the good die young. Playgrounds with grass. People with hats. Panting pets. Kites, camps, and clothes on the line.
It’s root beer floats overflowing. Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey coming to town. Rollercoasters. Running away from home. And the heady eau de Coppertone®.
It’s shorts and T-shirts. Zinc oxide. Thongs that were designed for your feet. New friends. Flowers in bloom. Football played in front yards with no uniforms and anybody you can round up.
Transistor radios. Swing sets, slides, and secret decoder rings. Hide-and-seek. Tag. Skinned knees and stubbed toes. Slip ’N Slide™. Mosquito bites, swimming holes, and rods and reels. Life vests. Long hikes. And little sisters tagging along.
It’s playing cards clothespinned to the spokes of your new Stingray bicycle, paper routes, and church picnics. Snow cones. Frisbees®. The dreaded dinner bell.
Starry skies. Porch lights. Sitting on the front step way past your bedtime. Mother’s Day. Father’s Day. Independence Day — every day.
Long shadows. Endless imagination. Yes, summer really is what you make of it.