sounds of summer

aaaahhh....

I got to drift off to sleep to the sounds of crickets last night! Of course, I had to concentrate a little to drown out the sounds of my neighbors yelling and swearing, but I managed. It almost makes up for being woken up by second-hand smoke 3 times a night. Almost.

Where was I? Oh, right. Crickets. That sound - you know it - is a sound I link to childhood summers. Days when I was in my swimsuit all day long and my hair never quite dried before I jumped in the pool again. Playing Sharks & Minnows and Marco Polo. My mom teaching me all kinds of dives off the diving board (half gainers, backflips, 1-and-a-half flips, etc.) Laying on a towel on the warm cement listening to Cyndi Lauper, Tears for Fears and the Outfield on my pink Sony radio. Nights when my parents let us swim at my grandparents house after dinner, when it was dark out. I used to absolutely love night swimming. I can almost feel my pruney fingers and toes and the soft burn of chlorine in my eyes. When we were done, my siblings and I would line up at my grandparents' kitchen door and my Grandma would bring a big, warm, fluffy towel straight from the dryer to wrap each of us up. I remember her teaching me how to scoop ice cream (she worked at a soda fountain as a girl). I remember sitting on my Grandpa's lap on their rusty old outdoor rocking chair with the peeling paint - a hint of Jack Daniels' on his breath and the softest hands of any man I've ever known to this very day.

Aaaaah. Crickets. That droning, repetetive, chirp-buzz that somehow sounds like a perfect mix of nature and music and brings such sweet memories to my mind. I don't know where the crickets came from, but they put a smile on my face, and I hope they stick around.