Memoirous

  Summer, even the word sounds lazy, effortless. Green, running on forever and ever. Shimmering in late afternoon heat, long shadows, slants of light. Brilliant endlessly blue skies. A whole day before you, to swim in your own thoughts, watch the sunflower climb heavenward. Where does the earth end and the temple begin . . . sunflower

I'm missing mid-summer in Sweden. A year ago I spent one of the most magical evenings I can remember amongst friends and strangers in the hinterlands of Sweden dancing around a "pole" and yapping like a frog (I have no idea) in celebration of the longest day of the year. Summer in Chicago can suck and it certainly isn't getting off to a good start: temps in the low 60s and drizzly rain. We've had weeks of rain now. I really miss riding my bike way into what should be night, into what is normally sunset--yet the sun is high and bright. I miss cleaning up at the water's edge and sleeping in the cool dusk--falling asleep before the sun goes down. I long for long summer days in Sweden.