Skip to main content

Ah, Summer!

Views of Summer
Summer is upon us; officially, the summer solstice occurs today at 6:34 p.m. EDT.

 With a midwest twang severely off-key, I’m out the front door; earbuds plugged in, arms pumping, on my routine early morning walk. Of course, I must look ridiculous and sound even worse echoing the chorus of - Sunshine on my Shoulder, makes me happy . . . Thankfully, there’s no one else on the streets. 

According to Ker Than in an article for National Geographic, “The solstice is the result of Earth's north-south axis being tilted 23.4 degrees relative to the ecliptic. This tilt causes different amounts of sunlight to reach different regions of the planet during Earth's year-long orbit around the sun." Translation, daylight lasts until after 8:00 p.m. in Southern California.

This year, the first of many, I’m planning to spend my summer in California. Now, I can hear you say, “Ok, what’s the big deal, don’t you live in California?” Yes, but every June, for the past five years, I’ve found myself packing for work, to be away from home between four and five weeks.

My summers were spent in Las Vegas (it’s a dry heat), Kansas City (it’s just humid), and Illinois (it's just hot). Mercifully, I grew up in the Midwest and learned to adjust to an average high temperate of 88 degrees and humidity of 91 percent. In Carlsbad, a coastal community, we enjoy an average high of 67 degrees, with 57 percent humidity. Comparatively, there is no humidity. North County San Diego has been called the most temperate climate on earth.

Yes, we live in a vacation destination community; this lends itself to a flood of tourists from Memorial Day to Labor Day. The beaches are packed, shopping areas congested, the harbors overflowing, and the freeways become parking lots. The locals know this - well, most of them do - so they tend to stay home. Our preferred method of transportation during this (temporary) population explosion is our bicycles, with no parking problems or traffic congestion.

Being near the Pacific, we experience what the locals term June gloom (early morning fog till about 10 a.m.); however, we live far enough inland (six miles) that the cloud bank experienced on the coast forms a barrier that ends about one mile from our property. Our home is a cozy retreat; it’s always cool with a gentle cross-breeze that flows throughout our living space. We never turn on the central air; as a matter of fact, since moving into our home, we have had the air on as many times as I can count on one hand. The backyard is quiet and comfortable, with three large evergreen trees that shade our home. My favorite time of day is the early morning. Being an early riser, I enjoy the golden glow of an easterly sunrise on cool (61 degrees) summer mornings; it's simply ideal.

 Behind our house is a restricted nature reserve owned by the local University. This lends itself to various animals out daily to gather food; rabbits, squirrels, hawks, and occasionally you will see a coyote (one morning a bobcat). Recently, during a walk, as I’m briskly trudging along, out of the corner of my eye, I see a movement, must be a rabbit, I thought. But as I approached it, this so-called rabbit was black with a white stripe. My first thought, so cute; it’s a young skunk. I simply must get a picture. My path took me within a few feet of this critter. With an attentive, curious look on his face, this youngster turned his head and saw me. Then in a flash, he wheeled his hind-end around, tail straight-up, in a posture that said, don’t come to any closer bub or I’ll spray! Immediately - thinking I'm in trouble now- I lengthened my stride and left my friend behind, whew, that was a close one!

 Well, it's Saturday morning, and once again, I’m headed out the door. I’m in training for this year's High Sierra Adventure. With earbuds in, arms and legs pumping, let’s see what critters I will encounter today as I mangle a medley of John Denver tunes; Rocky Mountain High seems appropriate.

Ah, summer!
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Most Popular of All Time

The Birth of a Cubs Legend

In this episode, The 162-Game Exhale — and the Birth of a Cubs Legend There’s a hush in the baseball world on Game 162 — a collective breath drawn in and slowly released. Scoreboards stop flipping. Dugouts empty. For six months, the game has been our steady heartbeat, pulsing from the cherry blossoms of Tokyo in March to the crisp, playoff-charged winds of late September. And now, as the regular season exhales, baseball fans everywhere pause to absorb the story we’ve just lived. For me, that story has been deeply personal. This season unfolded in the rhythms of my daily life. It was the summer soundtrack echoing beneath the constant turmoil of politics and sensational headlines. It was a handful of carefully chosen ballpark pilgrimages stitched together with countless nights in front of MLB.TV. And at the center of it all, for a lifelong Cubs fan like me, it revolved around one name — a young center fielder who turned hope into history: Pete Crow-Armstrong. The 2025 season didn’t begin...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Pessimism Aversion Trap

In this episode, The Pessimism Aversion Trap Picture this: a room full of bright minds nodding in agreement as a bold new strategy is unveiled. The slides are polished, the vision is grand, and the future, we're told, has never looked brighter. Everyone beams—because who wants to be the one to say, "Um… this might not work"? Heaven forbid someone spoil the mood with a dose of reality. Better to smile, add a buzzword or two, and march confidently toward disaster. That's how the Pessimism Aversion Trap works. Even now, I can still hear the sound—a high-pitched shriek and a digital hum, followed by the slow, rhythmic clatter of data pouring from a 5¼-inch floppy disk. It was the late 1980s, and my makeshift home office (our living room) was dominated by what felt like a marvel of modern engineering: a used Tandy 1000 PC with not one, but two floppy drives. To top it off, we purchased a 'blisteringly fast' 300-baud modem—which, for the uninitiated, could downloa...
1 comment
Read more

Pushing the Pause Button

In this episode, Pushing the Pause Button: Stepping Off the Treadmill Hello, friends — If you're reading this, I'm already off the grid. Today begins a much-needed vacation, and for the next few weeks, On the Fly is taking a break right along with me. For a long time, my inner voice has said, 'Keep every commitment, no matter what.' That's meant early mornings, long days, and a calendar packed with posts, podcasts, and projects I couldn't seem to say no to. I've been trying to be the tireless workhorse—but that kind of grind doesn't end well. Lately, I've noticed I'm not quite myself—shorter fuse, louder sighs, and a few too many grumbles (Lori deserves a medal). That's when you know it's time to hit pause before the spark burns out. So, I'm stepping back to rest, recharge, and remember what it feels like to not live by the next deadline: no tech, no to-do lists, just some space to breathe. Thank you, truly, for all your support and ...
2 comments
Read more

The Friday Morning Pause

In this episode,  The Friday Morning Pause: When My Brother’s Bookshelf Called Me to Stillness We live in a world allergic to stillness. Our mornings begin mid-sprint—thumbs scrolling before our eyes even open. The impulse to jump into the digital chaos is immediate. But sometimes, stillness finds you . It was early Friday morning. We’d arrived late the night before, stepping into the cool air before the day turned hot. Half-awake, I reached for my phone—emails, headlines, social feeds waiting like a morning buffet of distraction. We were in Cuba. No Wi-Fi. No 5G. No password. Just stillness, disguised as inconvenience. Instead, I caught sight of something unexpected: a small stack of books on my brother’s TV shelf. My brother and his wife are powered by perpetual motion. They are the definition of overscheduled and overstimulated. Yet there it was: Stillness Is the Key by Ryan Holiday, quietly mocking my scrolling habit. The irony was perfect. I put my phone down—a small, delibe...
Post a Comment
Read more