Ode to Summer

I was gonna post this on the Winter Solstice, in the depth of the cold and gray…but now it’s just gray.  Not so cold.  Still…enjoy this memory of summer past and think of summer on its way.

She lounges on her back patio, her skin soaking in the last sparkling rays of sunshine as the sun makes his way to his evening engagements.  Eyes closed, she breathes in the warm late summer air, catching the faint juicy scent of the tomato plant nearby.  Small ripe yellow tomatoes the shape of tiny gourds dangle from the plant, their flesh glowing and translucent in the late afternoon sun.

Sun Tomato

Sun Tomato

She reaches an arm out and plucks a tomato, feeling its firm skin, still very warm from the heat of the day.  Holding the tomato up to the light, its veined interior glows darker against the bright yellow.  She places it in her mouth and slowly bites into the ripe flesh, the skin resisting her teeth causing a small explosion of slightly sweet, slightly tangy juice to erupt against her tongue.

I wrote this in the summertime.  I saved it for the wintertime, so I could remember what summer feels like when it’s cold and wet and rainy outside.

Not until I give you permission.

And I absolutely positively CATEGORICALLY deny your request to leave.  I’m sorry, summer, you’re stuck here until I give the all clear.

And I haven’t sucked the marrow out of you quite yet.  In fact, I’ve been kinda sucking at the marrow sucking as of late.  Perhaps the hole is too narrow.  Perhaps my suction leaves something to be desired these days.  Whatever the case may be, this summer has not lived up to its glorious potential.




So I’m gonna need some more time, summer.  More time to lounge lazy in the sun, and putter in my yard, and be sexy at parties.  More time to go hiking.  More time to plunge the depths of cold mountain lakes.  More time to throw a stick endlessly for my dog.  More time for biking, and entertaining, and sunny days laughing with friends.  More time for barbecue, and eating dinner and drinking tea and reading on my patio.

So until I give you permission, summer, you’re not budging.  Suck it up.