"I am not one who was born in the custody of wisdom. I am one who is fond of olden times and intense in quest of the sacred knowing of the ancients." Gustave Courbet

04 August 2011

Summer.

Tonight, The Ghosts of Summers Past paid me a visit ...


Sandy two-tracks
Blue jays
Up early
Pine trees
Sand dust between my toes
"Jump The Dump"
Wobbling at dinner from being on the water all day
Pipe smoke
Minnows
Wet swim trunks
Black squirrels
The smell of two-cyle exhaust
The halyard on the flag pole ... WIND!
Ginger ale
That oxidized-copper-green dock decking
Paper birch
Salami sandwiches
Wave-rippled sand underwater in the morning
The cedar smell of the bedrooms upstairs
Woodsmoke
Perch-scented hands
Coppertone
Planters peanuts
"Trunk slammers"
Chicken on the grill ... skin.
Sitting and listening to Dad and Uncle Fred

Adrian Johnston, "Always Summer"



Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Uncle Fred ... you, too, Sarge.

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