Aching for Summer

give me summer.

1.  Sitting in the back of a truck bed at 9:30 at night next to a highway might not sound appealing, but when it's shared with three friends who love to laugh, we don't even notice how odd we look.

2.  Put your bare feet as near as you can to the flames without getting hurt.  Scoot your chairs closer.  Now listen.  Let me tell you a story.  It will make you laugh and it will make you smile.  Then another.  This one will make your skin tingle and you'll say you hate me for telling it.  So I'll sing songs across the flames in funny voices and I promise you won't hate me anymore.

3.  Produce covers the counters until the white tile underneath could hardly be seen.  And still buckets full to the brim sit on the ground.  "It's because of last year's drought", we say, trying to explain how so much food could come from what was planted.  The funny thing about gardening is that eating the produce isn't the best part.  No, I know the very best part is watching a friend drive away with a bag full of fruits and vegetables, knowing their dinner will consist of something we planted with our own hands.

4.  Memorize this feeling.  Don't you dare let it go.  Don't you forget what it feels like to sit on these bleachers with the friends that make you who you are.  You're watching your best friend show sheep and another friend show cows, but really, you're soaking in friendship.  You're walking around the fairgrounds and buying expensive ice cream that melts all over your hands, but really, you're soaking in summer nights.  Soak it in until it starts to leak out.  Soak it in so that on nights like this one the memories are still sweet.

> Some words about my favorite summer memories.  Some film scans from the time I bought a disposable camera to capture the last weekend of summer.  Both because it's only January 12th and I'm already aching for summer.