A Taste of Summer

Last week I discovered a forgotten jar of raspberry jam in the freezer. I brought it out and let it thaw in front of the wood stove. Then I cracked it open and we ate it by the spoonful and for a second it was summer once again.

It's been cold. My legs are pasty white and I'm tired of eating grocery store lettuce. The days are too short. And while there are millions of reasons to become a teacher, January ain't one of them.

Here are some forgotten camping photos. For a second, let's let it be summer once again.

Wickiup Reservoir with my friend Emily and her family. This is where Sawyer had his first taste of the Sea Biscuit as I watched white knuckled from the relative safety of the speeding boat. "Faster! Faster!" he shrieked. I swallowed bile and forced myself to look away as his small body flew perilously into the air with every bump through the boat's wake. I steadied my breath and tried to smile at his joy, well aware that this moment forebodes much of what is to come with this wild child.

Sunsets rendered us breathless and speechless. Campers were hypnotically drawn to the water's edge, iPhones in hand, hoping to capture this iconic summer camping moment.

And in August, our friends Steve and Lisa generously offered us the use of their tent trailer for our annual trek to Manzanita. This sort of felt like cheating for a second, and then it rained and my compromised camping morals were quickly put aside.

We were sandwiched in between RVs and it was a long, cold walk to the bathrooms. But there were hot showers and a playground and our kids disappeared into the herd and played until we came to collect them at dusk.

And, of course, there was the beach. If there is one place in this world that truly grounds me and revitalizes my spirit, it is the Oregon coast.

Alas, here we are in January. And yet, there are those glorious moments when the sun shines and the wind calms and we seek the comforting embrace of blue skies and warm rays from above. Children are released from the confines of LEGOs and books and they run like wild horses into whatever wide open spaces we can find.

 

These days are the bites of raspberry freezer jam that remind us how close to the sun we always are. January, you're not so bad after all.

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