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 Compass of Cuba: Mom

🎄  Preview of this week's  On the Fly  blog: A Holiday Tribute to Mom. As the holidays hustle with pixels and beeps, the world scrolls along in a smartphone-y sleep. I log off for a moment—just one little minute— To breathe in the past and to sit myself in it. My mind doesn’t wander to faraway places, Or trips full of tickets and new airport faces. Instead, it drifts backward, as memories do, to Cuba, Illinois, where the best moments grew. To a home full of warmth, in the wintry Midwest, Where my mother—dear “Marcie”—put love to the test. With a smile that could melt the most frigid of dawns, and hugs that hung on you like shivering fawns. She came from La Rochelle in France, brave and bright, Across oceans and war shadows, into new light. A town full of strangers soon felt like her own, And her courage built up the foundation of home. “Oh yes, we know Marcie!” the locals would say— “It's Doc Ball’s French lady! She brightens the day!” She cleaned, and she cooked, and sh...
2 comments
Read more

Feeling Human Again

In this episode, The Unexpected Thankfulness of Feeling Human Again I’ll be honest with you: My triumphant return from France was not the glamorous homecoming I had imagined. No graceful glide back into routine. No cinematic jet-setter moment where I lift my suitcase off the carousel and wink at life like we’re old pals. Instead? I came home and immediately launched into a two-week performance piece titled The Great American Couch Collapse. My days blurred together in a haze of soup, hot tea, tissues, and desperate negotiations with the universe for just one nostril—one!—to function properly. The living room sofa became my emotional support furniture. And any creative idea that dared tiptoe into my congested brain was gently shown the exit with a firm but courteous, “Not today, friend. Try again later.” When life hits the pause button like that—when you’re exhausted, sick, and mentally unplugged—how do you find your spark again? Somehow, today, I felt it. A tiny shift. A clearing of th...
1 comment
Read more

A Holiday Reflection–Mother's Love

In this episode,  How a Mother’s Love Built My Memories– A Holiday Reflection As this holiday season approaches and the world buzzes with shopping, planning, and busy schedules, I find myself embracing something wonderfully simple: taking a moment to pause. Not to check off a list or recharge devices, but to breathe deeply, remember fondly, and honor the person and place that have shaped my sense of home long before I had the words for it. This year, after regaining my strength from a lingering post-travel fog, my mind didn’t wander to exotic destinations or future adventures. It drifted backward—across oceans and time—to Cuba, Illinois, in the early 1960s, and to the woman whose love built the foundation of my world: Mauricette Elaine (Bontemps) Ball. My Mom . We came to Cuba after leaving La Rochelle, France, in 1959—a transition so dramatic I only appreciate its enormity now. My mother, barely in her mid-twenties, stepped off that plane and into the Midwest with a courage that s...
1 comment
Read more

Believing Is Seeing

🎄 In this episode, Believing Is Seeing . . . It's December, we bustle, we wrap, and we dash. We sort life into boxes— myths  here,  to-dos  in a stash. We whisper of Santa (adult code: “Not Real”), but hold on one minute—let’s rethink this whole deal. For the stories we cherish, the movies we stream, hold more truth in their sparkle than we grown-ups may deem. So hop in this sleigh and hold on real tight— We’re chasing down Santa by the glow of his light! Scott Calvin once landed in the North Pole’s cold air, with elves, cocoa, and snow everywhere. He squinted and frowned—“This just  cannot  be so!” (Like thinking tangled lights will detangle if we  blow .) Then Judy the Elf gave a cocoa so steaming,  and said something simple . . . yet surprisingly gleaming: Seeing’s not believing—no, that’s not the key. "Believing is seeing!"   Just trust, and  you’ll  see!” Kids don’t need a map or a satellite screen to know Santa’s workshop is her...
1 comment
Read more