The Eclectic Pen - Memory of A Summer Day


By: ANDRE' E. J. (Expeditious) - ,  
Date Submitted: 2/19/2007
Genre: Literature & Fiction » General
Words: 300
Rating:


 
Hot, sunny, summer days seemingly go on endlessly. All the familiar sounds blend into memories.
The shrieks of the sugar-n-spice-girls being chased by the puppy-dog-tail-boys determined to show off the wiggly worms they have discovered.
The chant of ‘Mary Mack all dressed in black’ keeping pace with the rhythmic slap of the jump rope being turned by the tallest playmates for the most lift.
The slightly hollow ringing bounce sound of a much-used basketball intermingled with the scuff of many tennis shoes and trash talk of the ‘almost grown’ teenage foes.
An unhappy baby being shushed and soothed by mamas’ tender crooning words of love.
Giggles and laughter of haphazardly dressed kids enjoying the lazily falling water sparkling diamond like from a sprinkler turning randomly at mid flow.
There is the dull buzz of fat, lazy bees too full to bother with those humans whose frenzy of activity should surely fade soon.
A joyous cry of greeting from one long-time-no-see friend to another.
A ragged flap flap flap of a playing card pinned carefully to a bicycle spoke to simulate the motor sound favored by some of the gangly adolescent boys.
Then as the sun travels across the sky signaling near supper time –
The flap flap flap of the motor bicycles fade on toward home, the last hollow bounce and shuffle of worn shoes moves on, the jump rope stills and is coiled for another day, friends bid farewell with a hopeful promise to keep in touch; Mama’s fretful baby lamb is tucked up sleeping, and the poor abandoned wiggly worms dig into the relative safety of moistness left by the now stilled sprinkler.
Screen doors smack the doorframes as quiet claims the street for a while.
When you are eight years old, summer lasts forever. When you are seventy years old, memory brings it freshly back again.



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Comments 1 to 5 of 5
IONE L. (zaneygraylady) - 2/19/2007 9:03 PM ET
very good I remember too
Jim H. (Pecos45) - 2/19/2007 9:52 PM ET
I hadn't thought of playing cards on a bicycle for a LONG time. Thanks for bringing that one back to mind. If I still had a bike, I think I'd rig it up and go ride up and down the street right now. :)
Jennifer G. - 2/20/2007 10:43 AM ET
I loved that! You are a great writer! I can actually "feel" that summer day!!!! Jennifer :0)
Marta J. (booksnob) - 2/20/2007 5:55 PM ET
Do they make days like this one anymore? Thanks for conjuring such nice nostalgia.
Sonia A. - 2/22/2007 3:51 PM ET
This is a very nice piece. Reading it I could feel the stagnant heat, hear the murur of voices, and wish to nap under a shade tree.
Comments 1 to 5 of 5