The Sweet Breath of the Sun

On yet another snowy day, another day of school delays and messed up schedules, another day of indoor play, another day of February blues…I find myself sitting in my office looking out on the tremendous piles of snow and trying to remember the feeling of summer.

You remember summer, right? The time of long days and warm nights. The time of playing outside until darkness begins to fall. The time of sitting on the back porch after the kids are in bed enjoying a glass of wine, some adult conversation and the chirp of the crickets. The time of long walks through the neighborhood. The time of grubby hands and dirty feet. The time of lax schedules and impromptu…whatever! Ahhh, summer.

And all that thinking of summer reminded me of this poem. So I thought I'd share it with you, in hopes that maybe you could close your eyes and remember the feeling of summer on yet another cold February day.

It will be here be before we know it.

Or at least that's what I keep telling myself.

The Sweet Breath of the Sun
The soft sweet sound
of the distant lawnmower
brings a wistful smile
to my face and
a tugging to my heart.
Though inside,
I can feel the summer
sun's warmth on my face
today and
of summer's long past.
I can hear
the gravely, slurry
speech of Harry Carey calling
hits and runs and outs.
I am lying on the nubby
yellow and brown fabric of
our worn family couch.
My long, tan legs stretch
out from my lavender shorts,
sun-streaked, bowl-cut hair
fans out on a pillow.
The sweetness
of a lazy summer afternoon
before the calls of work
and children
and to-do lists
pull at me.
When I ran
for the sake of running,
laughter spilling
from my lips
skipping, cartwheeling, falling
to the cool grass
out of breath and joyful.
So joyful.
Oh it oozed from my pores,
such joy,
such joy.
And here it is again.
And it has a name.
My Portia.
My Holden.
My heart.
The sweet breath of joy,
of summer,
of sun.
The sweet breath of the sun.

by Amy Lorbach
April 29, 2013


Until next time, close your eyes and remember the feeling of summer and the freedom of being young and the joy of letting go, and do something to make those feelings yours again today.


P.S.

As I finished writing this post, I actually thought I could hear the distant sounds of a lawnmower floating by on the breeze.

And then I realized it was the distant sounds of a snowblower.

Bah.