Summer . . .

. . . one of the most magical words in the English language.  Indeed, the last day of school--what a wonderful phrase!-- has arrived in most places.  Tuesday marked Washington County's special occasion and to me, these early days in June, before the 4th of July; heck, before actual summer was really even here were the best days of summer vacation.  Lightning bugs and long evenings; the first sleep out and the first sleepover;  endless games of "three flies in" and having the time to make a detailed study of every cloud that passed by on a given afternoon.

I am reminded of all this by five boys whom I saw yesterday.  Four were peddling with great purpose while the fifth was somehow standing on the bike behind his seated buddy.  (Boys instinctively perform feats that would drive the Director of OSHA apoplectic.)  In a right-hand turn lane at a busy intersection, the boys made the turn and spread out in the roadway, two abreast.  I was turning right as well and found myself stuck behind them, but instead of getting mad that these reckless kids were in my way, I could only smile and admire them.  For it was clear from the backpacks that they were wearing and from the earnestness with which they pedaled, that they were on the First Great Adventure of the summer.  They were headed Somewhere with real purpose and muchr excitement.

Perhaps one day 30 years from now, those five men, all of whom will be in their 40s will be together again and they will regale each other with well-told tales about one of the best days from one of the best summers of their lives. . . .  Take out such a memory, dear reader and hold it.  Hold it close to your heart from whence it came and then hold it up to the summer sun and watch the joy in it sparkle.

Then vow to create as many such memories as possible this summer.  If you do this, you will free Summer from its bonds of Spring and Autumn; it will become Eternal and the magic it contains will know no age.