Clifftop: take two
August 7th, 2010The first week of August hangs at the very top of the summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone. There is no thunder, no relieving rain. These are strange and breathless days, the dog days, when people are led to do things they are sure to be sorry for after.
(I’ve been thinking about a childhood favorite all summer, and then Erin posted this – this is why we’re friends.)
Music music music, tiny family, far-away friends, cramming into tents to wait out downpours, ice-cold beer, dancing, happy kid, her “I love my life” and everyone else’s “I love mine, too” while passing around a jar of moonshine and bobbing in the coldest swimming hole in Fayette county (at least…)
…bliss that you could cut with a knife.
We’re all stuck in here together like a big family… let’s drink.
August 7th, 2010 at 6:47 am
WHAT! How amazing was that bubble picture?!
August 7th, 2010 at 8:36 am
i find it amazing that hazel will sleep like a champ in that situation, but not, you know, her quiet dark house. :)
August 7th, 2010 at 10:48 pm
Ha, thanks Tia! Happy baby-having on Monday :)