Ahh, the musical montage. That glorious bit of cinematic magic wherein a key song plays over a spattering of key dramatic moments, in which storylines are advanced, tied up, or busted open while a single snippet of music brings it all together. I love a good musical montage. I’ve also found one to see us off into summer break and take us through the rest of the season. It’s an oldie, from a summer long ago, and just in time it will save the day, take us to a castle far away…
HOLDING BACK THE YEARS
THINKING OF THE FEAR I’VE HAD SO LONG
WHEN SOMEBODY HEARS
LISTEN TO THE FEAR THAT’S GONE
STRANGLED BY THE WISHES OF PATER
HOPING FOR THE ARMS OF MATER
GET TO ME THE SOONER OR LATER
I’LL KEEP HOLDING ON
I’LL KEEP HOLDING ON
It’s the perfect bit of languid music minimalism, ripe for a hot and lazy summer day when it takes every last ounce of effort to simply walk from one room to another. It’s ambivalent too, like summer can be. A certain tension informs these days, when too much sudden heat can clash with cooler realms and summer storms may be born into devilish, destructive offspring. We always pay for such heat.
Last year I took my first break from the blog, not knowing what to expect, feeling a vague fear and trepidation reminiscent of whenever I had had a really good year of school, when part of me didn’t want to break for summer, as crazy and incredulous as that may sound for a kid to think. I always felt older than the others. I always knew that that was the best time of our lives. At least, I forced myself to believe that. It worked well. Not expecting as much from these grown-up years has made them feel like a bonus. And no one wants to peak too soon.
On that last day of school, when even the teachers seemed to let down their guard in giddy relief, I walked a little slower, trying vainly to still the minutes, trying to enjoy them because somehow in the previous year I had forged bonds, made connections and even formed a few friendships that would last my lifetime. It was then, near the end of the year, that I started to feel a little loved. It always came so late, and it always overwhelmed me. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who didn’t want it to end. Maybe we all wanted to be kids for just a little bit longer.
HOLDING BACK THE YEARS
CHANCE FOR ME TO ESCAPE FROM ALL I’VE KNOWN
HOLDING BACK THE TEARS
CAUSE NOTHING HERE HAS GROWN
I’VE WASTED ALL MY TEARS, WASTED ALL THOSE YEARS
AND NOTHING HAD THE CHANCE TO BE GOOD
NOTHING EVER COULD
It only took the brief walk home, however, to turn off school-mode and ease instantly into vacationland. By the time I reached our house, that brief bout of nostalgia passed and only elation and the hope of a full summer ahead was left. I’d throw my pencils up into the sky, scattering them on the roof of our garage where they’d fade and warp in the sun and summer rains. I’d inhale the freshly-cut grass and begin the daily ritual of examining the gardens. Between bike rides and trading baseball cards, I would do my best to indulge in the traditional trappings of a boy in summer, and for the most part I enjoyed the days as they passed. Part of me longed for adventure, for something more exciting like we’d seen in ‘The Goonies‘ or ‘Stand By Me‘, and whenever we’d see a movie and were waiting for our ride, we’d roam the sparkly cement of the Amsterdam Mall parking lot and race into whatever dramatic scenario we’d concocted in our mind. The same spirit would accompany our night-time pool play, where we’d splash in the aqua light like some ‘Poltergeist’ meets ‘Jaws’ monster-mash. They were simple joys, and we never needed anything else. When left to their own devices, children will find a way to entertain themselves. Sometimes I think parents today feel some strange need to provide continual and constant stimulation, entertainment and occupation for their kids – when they really just need to be left alone. But what do I know? Andy and I remain happily unburdened by children. We are lucky that way. Besides, we have more than enough kids in our orbit to fulfill any sense of missing something, and we get to give them back at the end of the day. (Sometimes before the end of the day.)
I’LL KEEP HOLDING ON
I’LL KEEP HOLDING ON
I’LL KEEP HOLDING ON
I’LL KEEP HOLDING ON
As we wind down for summer, I’m reminded of those television shows that went on hiatus until the fall, leaving us with re-runs and non-challenging fare. Sometimes they ended with a bang, and a big dramatic cliffhanger (remember ‘Dallas’ and the whole ‘Who shot J.R.?’ mystery?) Just as often, however, they finished in quieter form, with a more contemplative place-holder. This post is one of the latter and that feels right for this moment in time – both for the blog and the summer. It’s simply too hot to work up a bombastic season finale. Instead, I’m putting ‘Music’ on repeat and holding on.
For now, if you remember last summer, this is not a goodbye. It is a quick little break to allow us both to enjoy the season of the sun without the onus of obligation, a chance to break away from the computer or the phone and take a swim, see a silly movie, or sleep in. It will pass too soon, the days will dwindle, and before we know it the cool night whispers of September will be tickling our ears and begging for the heat to be put to sleep. That heat has only just begun, and we’re at the point where we can embrace it.
HOLDING, HOLDING, HOLDING…
THAT’S ALL I HAVE TODAY
IT’S ALL I HAVE TO SAY.
The oscillation of a fan casts its sleepy spell.
A cicada revs up its shrill symphony.
Water laps at the edge of oceans, lakes, ponds and pools.
Summer settles in, adjusting her pretty, ruffled finery.
In a very quiet room, I try to sit very still. Outside the window, I can see the heat rising off the pavement in those surreal waves that seem to bend the air. Already, the peonies have been overcome by mildew. The lilacs will not be far behind. Others come into their own with such heat – the sweet potato vines have finally started leaping out of their pots. A lion’s paw plant has begun its subtle but steady ascent. The cup plant, provided it gets enough water, stretches its staunch stems skyward. Soon it will bloom in happy daisy-like faces of bright yellow, to be visited by bees and butterflies, and later by the goldfinches. They will scatter its ripe seed on the ground, starting the cycle over again, continuing this beautiful circle of life on its wondrously infinite trajectory.
This is the moment for which we’ve waited.
This is the garden in all its glory.
This is summer…
