Childhood is measured out by sounds and smells and sights, before the dark hour of reason grows. ~John Betjeman, Summoned by Bells
I strolled slowly, rather than going at the heart-pumping fast pace of my usual daily walk. Took time to count the spires on a large patch of indigo-colored lupine and inhale their spicy scent. Shed my shoes and dangled my feet in the waters that overflowed the Yampa River as I sat waterside on a picnic bench halfway submerged. I stopped and read inspirational quotes etched in bricks which form the foundation of the Peace Pavilion constructed by Rotary International. Then I turned and faced the beauty on the other side of me – the Rocky Mountains, the top still covered in winter white. The route that usually takes me about 50 minutes lasted an hour and a half as I obediently remembered the words of James Vanden Bosch about rejoicing and luxuriating in the gift of summer.
“Take time and live a childish summer,” he said. So, today, I began putting that practice into service.
I suppose it’s more reason to revisit the season of childhood in our memories because if I’m blessed enough to live ’til one hundred and ten, that’s still not nearly enough summers for me. What about you?
Photo: My twin & me with our childhood friends around the time of my “pioneering” heart surgery.