Summer Pleasures

     Each of the seasons in Michigan comes with its own pleasures.  Summer is at its height now, and its pleasures are sweet.

     A favorite among them, for my husband and me, is the Dexter A&W drive-in–a major part of the fun lying in the getting there and back.  Two-lane back roads take us past three farm stands, several farms, and lots of wildlife.  On Tuesday, we scored our first Michigan corn at one of the farm stands.  The farms along the route look prosperous.  One raises shaggy, long-horned highland cattle.  Sometimes we see over fifty deer as we drive.  We can pretty much depend on seeing wild turkeys.  And this week, we saw a small flock of sandhill cranes.  What a treat.

     The rest of the A&W fun is the whole drive-in experience and, lately, raspberry shakes.  That’s right, raspberry.  Not only does the A&W make a fine shake, but it sometimes offers specialty flavors.  Last fall, it had blackberry.  Now it has raspberry.  There was some other specialty flavor last fall, too, but we never tried it.  Hard to beat a blackberry shake.  Or, this summer, a raspberry one.  Mm-mm-mm.

     Fireflies and cicadas are definite summer pleasures.  It would be hard not to love fireflies.  They create a sense of wonder in children and, in adults, the remembrance of wonder.  They light up the darkness as if by magic, and fly slowly enough to be caught.  Our grandchildren from Wyoming, which doesn’t have fireflies, would run around our nighttime yard when they were small, filling mason jars with fireflies, creating bioluminescent lanterns.  Then they would set the fireflies free again.  Those children are grown up now, but fireflies light our memories of their childhoods.

     I heard my first annual cicadas on Wednesday.  These cicadas aren’t the raucous hordes of Brood X, but the ones that show up regularly at this time of year.  They’re shy enough to stop singing if you get too close, and they sing a different song than Brood X.  I’ve always liked how annual cicadas sound—buzzy and other-worldly–but I feel a pang of sadness when I first hear them.  They don’t show up till summer is more than half gone.  When the cicadas wind up, summer is winding down.  Still, cicada song is a pleasure to be savored.

     People in our neighborhood go for walks.  They walk all year, especially since the pandemic began, but they walk even more during the summer.  Sometimes for exercise, sometimes to see what’s happening in the neighborhood and in the woods and by the pond, and sometimes just because walking is a pleasant way to pass the time.   Neighbors also work outside in their yards and gardens, and take breaks on their porches with a book and something cool to drink.  All of this adds up to another favorite aspect of summer:  more neighbor time.

     Folks who meet while out walking walk a ways together, if they’re going the same direction, or stop and chat a bit if they’re not.  Walkers chat with gardeners about rainfall and what plant that is that’s growing so happily in the shade of the maple tree.  And if porch-sitters didn’t want to chat, they’d be out back on the deck, or indoors.  Chatting adds interest to our lives, and sometimes to our gardens.  More than that, though, it reminds us of our shared interests and that we are kindly disposed toward each other.  It strengthens our bonds as a community, and figures prominently among summer’s pleasures.

     Perhaps sweetest of all are our long, lingering summer evenings. By virtue of decisions made long ago, most of Michigan sits on the western edge of the eastern time zone.  In essence, when it’s 10:00 p.m. here, we have the light Chicago has at 9:00 p.m.  In the summer, that’s a lot of light.  We had visitors from New York a couple weeks ago, and they commented that our evenings last way longer than theirs. 

     Lucky, lucky us.  Michiganders get more summer packed into every day than folks in most other places.  Our evenings tarry.  Parties last longer, as the night feels young.  Guests stay later, talking and laughing and making memories.  Parents let their children stay up longer to chase fireflies.  Neighbors sit out later with neighbors, watching fireflies and listening to excited children.  Summer evenings here are magic.

     Summer everywhere has features to recommend it, I suppose.  I, for one, am happy to be here in Michigan.

30 July 2021