Gahd I love summertime

I just got back from a late dinner at a little restaurant near my house. I drove through the summer night with the windows down, savoring the sweet summer air, redolent with the smell of grass, honeysuckle, and a faint whiff of car exhaust and stale dumpster.

When I got home I realized, as I unlocked the front door, that the weather was perfect. The neighborhood is silent, which is almost miraculous for a Saturday night.

The house is a little stuffy, trying to shake off the incredibly high humidity of the last several days, so I opened the sliding glass door to the back deck to get some air.

And now, here I sit, in the light of the growlites of my half empty plant stands (most of the plants are on the deck for the summer), breathing in the summer air and listening to the crickets and tree frogs.

I love that sound. I live five minutes from downtown, and my yard echoes with all the calls and chirps and clicks of summer. And I am grateful that, at least today, I am healthy enough to notice it. Way too often I am too stressed, too busy, too sick and tired to sit for a second and savor the moment. Usually seasons zoom by without notice as I go from car to house to airport to hotel to airport to car to house, over and over again. I have got to get out more. Go out to the countryside I love so much before winter descends again.

I am not done with the book, I am as far behind as ever. But for now, for this brief moment, I managed to get fed without getting sick, I have no migraines, my heart is hardly skipping a beat, and I am just happy to realize that it is summer, the weather is perfect, and I am not living in fear. I have a place to sleep and people who care about me. I am not going to fall off the earth, and am not going to be physically hurt by anyone today. It's okay. Even if I am late with my work. Even if my editor is mad at me. I have nothing to fear as long as I can keep breathing.

And with that happy thought, I think I'll go back to editing. G'nite.