I have finally learned to love all four seasons, but I look forward to summer the most. I love the way the sunlight pours in the windows, early in the morning, making me glad to get out of bed. I love the long, blue sky days, sitting outside on the patio, watching the hens dig around under the raspberry canes. I put on a big hat and my gigantic Jackie Onassis sunglasses and spread out all my necessities—book, knitting, tall, creamy iced coffee with bendy straw—and just camp there for hours, maybe the entire day. I might take a quick minute to hang some laundry. I doze in my chair, lazy, listening to my neighbor mow his lawn, the bees vibrating in the crabapple tree, the cars going by with music bumping out their open windows.
Eventually, it is mid-afternoon and I am warm and sleepy and it’s time to think about dinner. The New York Yankees are on the radio, and they’re winning. There is nowhere to be but here. I make an easy soup of fresh asparagus and cream, bread and butter, and eat it slowly.
After dinner, I light the citronella candles and sit on the porch, my feet still bare and up on the rail. Cars still go bumping by, in the dark now, and it’s still warm. There’s wine, and quiet, and the blossoms that grow all around are so vividly fragrant in the dark. Summer, I love you.