The Sounds of This Summer
This is a picture of Diana’s Bath in Bartlett, New Hampshire. When I was a teenager, I spent more than a few blistering, summer days refreshing myself in Diana’s pools and cascades. Only real novices visited Diana’s Bath in flimsy bathing suits. Regulars knew that that material couldn’t hold up to her granite slides. Even we often left with our cut-offs’ seats in tatters. That was part of the adventure.
I also sailed on mountain lakes. I taught others how to rig boats and to tack with the wind. I love the sound of waves lapping on the hulls as the boats bob at their moorings. I traveled back roads looking for homemade ice cream and handmade crafts. I fished. My father taught me and I taught my grandchildren (although they were often more fascinated by the worms than the fish.) My husband and I visited historic sites, reading up before and after on the full stories of their significance. I never passed a garden stand, always ready to plant as many flowers as my beds could hold. But, this year, I have stayed home, really stayed home.
I’ve avoided beaches and parks and crowded roadside kiosks. No spending weeks with our grandchildren who live a plane ride away. No visiting old friends. This summer has been a quiet one of reading and watering and neighborhood walks. We’ve already put down deposits for next summer’s adventures. I am hopeful and I am also grateful.
I don’t wish to make a life of quiet. But, as I do my part to make the world safer, I have found calm in small things. Calm has its place. Let’s hope that by next summer, I can couple it with noise and travel, surrounding myself with those I love most - but not forgetting that there is a time for and much to learn from tranquility.