Thinking on the Season

It's a chilly, rainy 58 degrees here...in June. I love the bay area, but with the official beginning of summer just a few days away, I'm wondering when it will start to feel 'proper'. There's no end to delicious summer food fare, tomatoes, watermelons, cuts of meat that just cry out for a good grilling, and, yet, I'm always with a sweater.

I'm originally from the  South, where summer means cicadas, burnt grass, days at the beach, grilling every night, and long steamy nights rocking on the front porch. I always miss it around this time of year because, outside of the mid-south region, there's just no replacement.

We've lived in so many places by now, that it's impossible to keep track without having a long think, but I'm fairly positive that there's no place I more enjoyed summer than back in my home state. There's just something about it that cries out to me once summer comes upon us. Something that is just innately different from everywhere else we've ever lived...or passed through. Strange that one particular season of the year (that, honestly, I didn't really think was my favorite) calls up so many fond associations. And, no, it doesn't have anything to do with school, and breaks, or family...or anything LIKE that. (we were homeschooled, and I have a non-existent adult relationship with my family) It's more the smells of summer nights, the way the cicadas hummed so noisily, and the burnt brown of a dried up earth. Strange.

Here, summer means, lighter sweaters than ordinary, and the occasional sun-dress, heated outdoor pools, and trips to the zoo where no one breaks a sweat.

 It's all very different.

It might have something to do with how N and I met. We were both working at a summer camp. It was love at second sighting (no seriously...I rather disliked him at first introductions) We were outdoors the entire summer and maybe there's some sort of association with those smells, and colors, and the HEAT, and our love for each other.

Or, maybe, my home state isn't as dowdy as I once thought it. Perhaps it really is one of a kind.