I've finally learned to embrace the Florida summer. In all honesty, it's taken just about two decades to get to this point. Because for years I've fought loving it. A small part of me believed that I was somehow being unfaithful to the Michigan summers of my childhood...because they were truly fabulous...going barefoot in the silky grass, swimming for hours in the cool depths of the Black river, riding my trusty orange Schwinn ten-speed for miles on end alongside fields of wildflowers...I loved it all.
Now, through the eyes of my children (and my own inner child), I can truly wrap my arms around the bliss that is a Florida summer. I've discovered that regardless of the sometimes stifling heat, I'm often surprised by the rush of a sudden breeze that rustles the palms. I've come to relish with absolute awe a lightning-filled sky while wasting away a rain-soaked afternoon reading. Or wandering along the shoreline of the gulf feeling the powdery sand between my toes as the sun dips below the horizon and the relief of dusk descends. I love how Alissa has taught me to treasure the sensation of settling into the arms of my sky blue beach chair and to focus on the steady rhythym of the waves washing over the coquinas...again and again....knowing the water awaits when I need a plunge. And I really, really do love a Florida summer.
