I have figured out why summers lasted so long when I was a child. My attention was focused solely on the present. I didn’t worry about what had happened yesterday nor what would happen tomorrow. I was only conscious of that particular moment in time.
If I committed an inappropriate act the consequences were immediate. The luxury of a long jury trial or a suspended sentence was not an option. The verdict that dropped heavily on my ears was “Go get me a hickory.”
Basic needs were not a concern. There was no worry about shelter because we could go inside if it rained. I didn’t worry about food because Mama just gave us something to eat when we were hungry. Usually, it just appeared on the table around mealtime. I didn’t worry about clothes because if I had more, that meant I would just have to change more often. I certainly did not have time for that!
Days were filled, daylight to dusk. I remember the day we stretched a rope between two trees and created a circus. That day, I learned that walking a tight rope was much harder than it looked. It required some skill that I lacked. It never occurred to me that the equipment was not sufficient to the task.
That circus performance never materialized, but we spent many hours in preparation for it. It would have been a great performance, too, had we not been distracted by some greater, more interesting endeavor.
Once, in a field at the front of our house, we made a tunnel through a briar patch. This took us the most part of a whole day. It was not a very useful project. The tunnel didn’t really go anywhere. It was never used again after that day. But, at the expense of many bloodstains and not a few scratches, we proved that it could be done.
In the pine thicket above our house, we built many a treehouse where we resided for a day. Beneath the trees we would dig holes and cover them with branches and pine straw. We hoped to catch some wild animal or unwary trespasser in this trap. To test our strategy, we took turns “accidentally” falling into the pit. It never occurred to us that if we could get out of the hole then possibly our prey could do the same.
We created exclusive clubs. Only elite individuals such as ourselves could belong. Then, we would collect membership dues of a few cents each. We put all the funds in a quart fruit jar and buried it for safekeeping. This cache is still buried in some unmarked grave along with my childhood.
Age has taken away the endless summers. Worry and concern, forward and behind, causes the time to pass too quickly. Crystal clear mornings filled with the songs of birds, the scent of the flowers blooming at the corner of the porch, they all go unnoticed. Brilliantly painted sunsets receive only a passing glance. The everyday grind doesn’t allow time for such childish indulgences in simple pleasures. Summers fly past as our lives are consumed by busy lifestyles.
Oh, for the innocence and simplicity of childhood! How much beauty of life is lost when time replaces the rose-colored glasses of childhood with the harsh magnifying lens of reality.