BS: Summer memories

Subject: BS: Summer memories
From: Bettynh
Date: 22 Aug 14 - 02:40 PM

I'd like to start a story thread here to come back to in mid-winter when it's always hard to remember summer. Did you have one moment that was perfect this (or, for that matter, any) summer?

Here's mine for this year:

I decided to get to Old Songs Festival early this year, since rushing around is my most unfavorite part. Thursday I set up in an open area of the public campground (I really wanted a shower every day). Friday was a gorgeous day, cool and sunny in the morning. Nothing would happen at the festival till after noon. I sat at the table with my back to the sun which was just rising above the shrubbery to cast sun spots on the lawn in front of me. Suddenly two brilliant lines of light appeared. They were the full spectrum, like a rainbow, but in a straight line with only the very hint of a curve. They moved slightly sometimes. At other times they seemed to jump a short distance before again gently moving up and down. They were beautiful. Then they disappeared. I crept forward to the spot I thought they had been and saw the gossamer - reflection off the spider web and the sun at a low angle behind me had caused them. The movement was the gentle stretching and bowing of spider thread. Perfectly rational. Then I got to thinking: in another time or mindset, might I think I was seeing fairies ("Don't get close - you'll scare them!")? If someone insists they'd seen fairies, is this what they're talking about? So, in a way, had I seen fairies?? I think I'll tuck this memory away under "The year of Old Songs that I saw fairies." And I can actually use that phrase when talking to folks I've shared this story with, since the word fairy has taken a different meaning recently.

(Of course, alternately, I could have been very worried about my own sanity since I'd been "seeing things.")

Subject: RE: BS: Summer memories
From: Rapparee
Date: 22 Aug 14 - 06:15 PM

Ah, the bittersweet memories of the summers of my youth! Trekking through Southern France, putting up in a barn for the night, the wine, the farmer's lovely daughter slipping out....

Sure wish that had happened, instead of working to get money to go back to college in the Fall. I'm still processing the memories of this summer, though.

Subject: RE: BS: Summer memories
From: ChanteyLass
Date: 22 Aug 14 - 06:51 PM

My memory this summer was the achievement of a personal goal I'd set--to see Mystic Seaport's Charles W. Morgan leave Mystic Seaport in Connecticut, board her in each port where she was open to the public, and see her return to Mystic Seaport. Because I live in Rhode Island and all her stops were in Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts, I was able to do this as a series of day trips.

Subject: RE: BS: Summer memories
From: LadyJean
Date: 22 Aug 14 - 10:32 PM

When I was a kid, we went on the family vacation, driving from Western Pennsylvania to the Delaware shore. Dad, Mom, Me, My Sister, Ralph the family dog, and Perandy the family cat all 30 plus pounds of him.

My parents drove a Citroen, for reasons I still don't understand. Mom and Dad rode up front, with Ralph, who was a miniature poodle. Ellen and I rode in the back seat. Perandy rode in the very back, on top of the luggage. He had a rug and a litter box.

People would start staring because of the unusual car. Then they'd see mega kitty in the back. We never caused an accident, but we collected more than our share of double takes.

We would, eventually come to the Chesepeake Bay Bridge, which is a long bridge. Perandy would perk up, and start to sniff the air. There were thousands of dead fish out there! He wanted his share.

Subject: RE: BS: Summer memories
From: Donuel
Date: 28 Jun 17 - 04:36 PM

I was 10 years old when the backyard was still a land of mysteries.
On that bright and warm day I was standing where the yard dropped off and a steep bank began by a stand of birches. Things that fly still fascinate me. Just today I studied a dragon fly from an inch away.
In the backyard I saw something flying. Maybe it was spider catching a ride on its silk? The air was still and so was this. Up close it looked exactly like a two inch wide snowflake. It looked so delicate I was slow and cautious when I tried to touch it. I got within a couple inches and it moved away in response but only slightly. I went even slower. Again it moved away like a repelling magnet. I did not want to snatch it knowing it was delicate beyond anything I had ever seen, so I studied it before it drifted out of reach by heading ever so slowly toward the steep bank. A six pointed star of white strands connected the 'craft' in total symmetric intricacy. way it went in slow motion in an invisible breeze leaving no trace except a life long memory .

Subject: RE: BS: Summer memories
From: Sandra in Sydney
Date: 28 Jun 17 - 06:53 PM

wonderful, memory, Donuel

Most Australians (well, those who live close enough to the coast) would have beach memories, but Ive always had trouble with glare which cause nasty headaches, & as to Sydney's nasty humidity ... so I don't have any summer memories that leap forward & beg to be shared.

But I do have a great collection of photos of the sun - if I'm looking at bright sun against interesting buildings or skylines, I shut my eyes, aim my camera at the heat source & snap away!

Subject: RE: BS: Summer memories
From: Donuel
Date: 29 Jun 17 - 07:56 AM

Sandra it seems you probably see very well on cloudy, dim and rainy days. Your ancestors probably adapted to extreme northern climes and underground environs. Bogus ancient astronaut theorists would say your alien roots come from a race that evolved near a red dwarf star. ;^)
And if so... your DNA is ideal for reverse breeding to bring back more alien characteristics of those who thrived on dark planets such as having huge eyes and large heads. Need I say, just kidding.

Subject: RE: BS: Summer memories
From: Donuel
Date: 29 Jun 17 - 11:12 AM

The Late Summer Storm

Our farmhouse was 2/3 up from the bottom of the valley. Down below was a little stream you could step across in one stride. Onn the house side of the road was another stream than ran down to the valley that carved its way though the millennia of sedimentary rock to create a perfect stairway all the way up the valley. In the winter the stream somehow made spiral icicles like springs that formed on branches near the water. In the summer the star step steam bank glowed green at night from Foxfire.
    At the bottom pasture next to the valley stream I had just put up a screen house tent I had not used in some time. It kept out mosquitos at night with walls of fine mesh screens. There were rumors of Hurricane Agnes moving in and stalling hundreds of miles inland so if was ever going to use the tent I had little time.

It was near sundown when I made my way down to the bottom and hopped across the valley stream to the tent. The pasture was sparkling with fire flies. When the first armband of the slowing hurricane arrived it was after dark an it drenched the walls of the tent like solid walls of water. The fire flies sought cover and the tent offered a little bit of protective overhang. A flash of lightening turned the walls of the water soaked tent solid walls of intense light. When my eyes readjusted to the night I saw a single firefly illuminate a six foot diameter globe of light reflected through the wet screen mesh.
Each little space in the mesh had become a micro lens and magnified the tiny light of the firefly. There were hundreds of thousands of micro lens made of water making light bright enough to read from a single firefly. Next there were hundreds of fireflies outside the tent filling the entire interior of the tent with resplendent yellow green light.

The first band of showers passed and I climbed up and back to the house. It rained for 14 days and the 4 foot wide creek became a half mile wide. When I returned to the pasture there was only one small trace of the tent snagged on an ironwood tree but I learned how to magnify a micro watt of light into shadow free ambient interior lighting. All from fireflies in the rain.

Subject: RE: BS: Summer memories
From: Merritt
Date: 29 Jun 17 - 12:30 PM

I was 7-8 years old. The family - minus our Dad working back in the city - was staying in a cabin in the Catskill Mountains of New York state on an isolated property that belonged to my grandpa. Late-July. Our Mom sent me and my sisters out to pick berries. Green plants up the hill from the cabin were loaded with raspberries and blackberries. We brought back a full bucket so our Mom could make pies for an upcoming extended family gathering.

The three of us kids sat at a wooden table; sunlight splashing golden through the cabin window. Mom scooped luminous berries out of the bucket and into cereal bowls then set a bowl and a spoon in front of each of us. She poured cream (purchased from the farm down the road) out of a small metal pitcher over the berries. I remember staring at the berries glowing in the cream, the sun shining in; it was all too magical to eat!

I recount this memory to my Mom now and then. She's now 91, securely wrapped in dementia but still loves to hear the story.

Subject: RE: BS: Summer memories
From: Bonzo3legs
Date: 29 Jun 17 - 01:41 PM

1967 - sitting on the grass at an open air pool in London Colney near St Albans UK on a scorchingly hot Sunday afternoon, listening to John Peel who had Cream in session!!

Subject: RE: BS: Summer memories
From: Senoufou
Date: 29 Jun 17 - 03:51 PM

Early fifties, my sister and I, wearing cotton shorts over our woollen swimming costumes, would take our 'tent' (a very lightweight item, made from the top of an old parachute and three garden canes) out into the fields beside Yeading brook (Middlesex) It was like a tiny wigwam, and could be carried easily over the shoulder. The water meadows were full of buttercups, 'ragged robin', flag iris and campion. We set up our tent, and ate slices of Hovis thick with butter, wrapped in greaseproof paper, followed by a Cox's Orange Pippin apple, and half a bottle of Tizer. We'd sit in this tent all day, emerging to paddle in the brook when we got a bit warm. We'd make daisy chains and collect pretty stones. Our parents neither knew nor worried about where we were, and we only went home at teatime. Such innocence and freedom...

Subject: RE: BS: Summer memories
From: Rapparee
Date: 30 Jun 17 - 09:05 AM

When my brother Tony and I were about 12, we picked strawberries at one of the local farms during the summers for a couple of years. The day started at 5:30 a.m. and if you were late you didn't get to work. It ended at noon, before the "heat of the day" started. Pay was 7 cents per quart box picked, and they'd better be FULL! We'd bicycle out, a couple of miles each way.

One day, coming home through the local park, some neighbor kids -- little kids, about 7 or 8 -- came running up, yelling. One of their friends had slipped while wading in the "fishing pond" and needed help.

We tried to reach him with a stick, but it was too far. So my brother took my hand and I braced on the bank while he waded out and pulled the kid to shore. The kid wasn't breathing.

An adult was walking by and took over, giving kid artificial respiration. One of the other kids had run to a nearby house and the people there had called the fire department. When the FD arrived
the kid was sitting up and coughing. He was taken to the hospital anyway.

The adult was thanked and praised for saving the kid. My brother and I continued our trip for the last four blocks to home.

Subject: RE: BS: Summer memories
From: Senoufou
Date: 30 Jun 17 - 11:38 AM

Since my sister was younger and a bit of a whingeing wimp at times, I often went about in the summer holidays with Susan, my own age and always up for a lark.

We haunted Dalton's farm, about three miles from home. Mr Dalton had varied livestock, and we enjoyed trying to ride on the backs of the dairy cows (when he wasn't looking), feeding juicy elm leaves to the pigs (rather dangerous sows, especially when they had piglets) and best of all, making faces and shouting taunts at Billy the enormous bull, who was always tethered by a ring through his nose to the yard wall.

One memorable day, we performed our usual dance of mockery when he suddenly jerked his rope free, turned around with his head down and charged at us. We screamed blue murder and fled across the field, Billy in hot pursuit. I'll not forget the thundering sound of his hooves getting ever closer behind us. We flung ourselves through the hawthorn hedge sobbing with terror, and he turned and strolled away.
Susan had wet herself. My knees were like jelly. Served us jolly well right!

Subject: RE: BS: Summer memories
From: Joe_F
Date: 30 Jun 17 - 09:11 PM

Summers in southern Vermont, ca. 1945: There was a stone wall across our back yard, and my father had used some spare stones (plentiful in that country) to build a fireplace into it. If we had guests, we would use it to cook dumpy little hamburgers for them. My parents had gotten hold of some Chinese lanterns, and we lit them & hung them on the big maple tree -- not a good idea, because a breeze might tilt them far enough to set them on fire; eventually none were left. My brother & I would make huge cigars out of paper-towel cores stuffed with newspaper, and smoke them. We would pour kerosene on cattails & light them for torches. We would catch fireflies & keep them in a jar.

So many lights!