dolphins_log: (Sea Light)
Spring arrives.

Shadows of Midsummer Night's Dream...
A soft choral of frogs.  
A passing of a warm wind.
The smell of trees and warm earth, sweet pollen of blooms, fill the air.
Music, soft and familiar, pulls at memories.
An image of a paint brush...
An idea for a story...
Creativity blooms with the growing green.
Thoughts grow form with the  Midsummer Night's Dream.
dolphins_log: (Napping)
[Another suggested topic from LJ] How did you spend summers when you were a kid?

Swimming off the docks in Port Madison Bay.  We all had docks there.  A standard requirement for a waterfront home was a dock.  Swimming in the bay was great fun until the pleasure boats [we called them stink pots]  tied up at the Seattle Yacht Club would flush their holding tanks directly into the bay.  Sewer sludge would build up three feet wide on one side of the float or the other.

Rowing or sculling to and from my friends house.  My brother had the outboard, so I was relegated to the oars.

Biking all over the woods.  Narrow tire bikes were unheard of back then, and our wide tires were great for the undeveloped woods and trails.  Not parks, mind you, just the back woods.

August hot dog roasts.  My father would take the garden rock rake and put a hot dog on every tine.  The wood smoke smelled great.

Catching maple tree seeds before they hit the ground.

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October 2012

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