Few things compare to bare feet on red Georgia clay. After a hard year
of book learning with some life learning tossed in for good measure, summer
came along at just the right time back in the day. And for my money, summers
there were the best, back in that place with the 30513 zip code.
Each
summer when I was a child, I would spend plenty of time outdoors. When I was a
kid, it represented freedom, at least until it was time to return to school at summer's end. It
became a time to explore. Butterflies danced through the air. Sweat bees took turns dive-bombing my ears. Crickets and grasshoppers and June bugs and an occasional praying mantis provided wonder and amusement. I would venture into the woods through briar patches and over fallen trees into places which felt undiscovered. While I now realize I probably should have worn shoes, I also understand I would not have ever known the feeling of my feet pressing against the dirt of the earth.
Summer
was also a time when family used the soil of the earth to provide food. Almost everyone we knew grew a garden then. My
family was no different. We would grow green beans, potatoes, corn, squash,
okra, cucumbers, maybe tomatoes or even watermelons. If the weather was good,
and the bugs could be held at bay, there would be enough food grown to store away some for the winter. Usually there was enough to not only save some for colder days but enough to share then and there with neighbors. Neighbors
would share their bounty with us, too. Although, it wasn’t a favorite chore
then, I can’t help but think back on times sitting on a family member’s porch
stringing then snapping green beans. If you listened you could learn a lot about life, and maybe, a bit about your people
during those times. Mostly though, it made you appreciate hard work, even when
it can be tedious and not so glamorous.
As
I grew older, other things became important during summer. We would often camp
or head over to Fightingtown Creek. We would ride inner tubes in the fairly
calm white water keeping an eye out for snakes along the bank or in the rocks.
We might go fishing. We might just ride through the mountains.
It
was so much more though.
It
was letting a pinch of tobacco ease the sting from a bee. It was red Kool-Aid in
an old milk jug pulled fresh from the freezer. It was a family reunion with
fried chicken, potato salad, banana pudding, sweet tea and a never-ending game
of horseshoes. It was taking turns winding the crank to churn out homemade ice
cream. It was fresh peaches, fuzz and all, watermelon with a dash of salt, and tomato sandwiches covered over with mayonaisse and black pepper. It was the slamming of a
screen door behind you as you ran outside because it was cooler in the yard than it was inside the house. It was a wet, sticky mess of heat that knew
little mercy. It was enough dust that when the wind blew you held your hands
above your eyes then felt the dust land on your sweaty face painting a tan
around your eyes, nose and mouth. It was lightning bugs in glass jars with tiny slits jabbed into the jar lid with that pocket knife you carried everywhere. It was
praying for rain so the crops didn’t dry up and die on the vine. It was praying the storm would
blow over quickly so it didn’t knock down what had been planted. It was the curse
of kudzu and poison ivy but the saving grace of Vacation Bible School and
Decoration Day and Homecoming.
Growing up, those were the summers I knew.
I’ve been gone from a whole summer there a
long time. When I think back on those summers though, it's all blues and greens now. Once, when I came home from college for the summer, I noticed
how green things were that year. Trees seemed to have an abundance of leaves.
The grass grew so tall it seemed to fall all over itself. The faded denim-blue sky though
seemed still as if it were painted on a faraway canvas. Looking back, I like to think those few moments were made just for me so I could snapshot them into memory to bring out when I might want to remember the way things were. Now in the summer, whether I am there or somewhere else, I tend to look for those colors. When I
find them I can almost feel my feet on the cold, red Georgia clay again. It feels like summer did then, and the memories of what summer was like through all those years shine down on me like the golden beams of a July sunrise,
and, I am home again.
30513 Memories: Summer playlist:
Kansas "People of the South Wind"
Corey Hart "Sunglasses at Night"
Raydio "You Can't Change That"
Willie Nelson "Blue Skies"
Pure Prairie League "Still Right Here In My Heart"
Peaches and Herb "Reunited"
Starbuck "Moonlight Feels Right"
Michael Murphey "Wildfire"
Steve Martin "King Tut"
Nick Gilder "Hot Child In The City"
Joe Jackson "Is She Really Going Out With Him"
Hall & Oates "You Make My Dreams"
Stories "Brother Louie"
Jefferson Starship "No Way Out"
Waylon Jennings "Luckenback, Texas"
Dan Hartman "I Can Dream About You"
Tears for Fears "Everybody Wants To Rule The World"
Pablo Cruise "Love Will Find A Way"
The Larsen-Feiten Band "Who'll Be The Fool Tonight"
Tony Carey "The First Day of Summer"
R.E.M. "Can't Get There From Here"
Joe Walsh "All Night Long"
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers "Let Me Up (I've Had Enough)"
