Song. O Spirit Of The Summer-Time!

O spirit of the Summer-time!

Bring back the roses to the dells;

The swallow from her distant clime,

The honey-bee from drowsy cells.

Bring back the friendship of the sun;

The gilded evenings calm and late,

When weary children homeward run,

And peeping stars bid lovers wait.

Bring back the singing; and the scent

Of meadow-lands at dewy prime;

Oh, bring again my heart's content,

Thou Spirit of the Summer-time!

William Allingham

Ah, the lazy days of summer....if only it weren't so hot.  Yesterday was perfect weather...low 60's in the morning and only low 70's in the afternoon.  There was a cool breeze that made it feel even more comfortable.  In my ideal world, this would be summer every day, but, it is not my ideal world, and sweltering summer heat is something we have to deal with.

Heat and humidity never seemed to bother me as a child, but the older I get, the worse I feel.  In fact, the summer's of my youth meant times of fun, endless hours riding my bike along the country roads, traipsing through the woods in search of the fairy folk, diving into a pond of clear blue water, lemonade stands of which I drank more than I sold, running through the yard with, Susie, my three-legged dog chasing me.  She was a true miracle indeed. Of course, it didn't hurt to be able to run about in a bathing suit all day.

Susie was my first pet. I remember one day coming home from school and being told she was at the animal hospital, that she by an oil truck.  No one   thought she would survive.  Don't forget, we're talking 60 years ago , and  vets had not nearly the life saving equipment they have now, so he performed nothing short of a miracle. He and my mom spoke and they chose to  her back leg  amputated. For awhile it was touch and go, but bless her dear heart, she survived, was able to get about just like any other dog, and lived to the age of 15.  That was when she developed a brain tumor and had to be put to sleep.  That little black mutt had brought me so much joy, and I can still feel her close to my heart. 

If there was one thing my mom instilled in me, it was my love of animals and the joy and sense of inner peace that comes from helping a fellow creature.  We had quite a menagerie when I was young. I can never forget, Patti, the little tabby who had got caught in the fan belt of my mom's car. She was near death when we brought her to the vet, but she had such a strong will to live. She was left mildly retarded with a limp, but she was the sweetest most loving cat. 

Then there was Robin, the baby bird that had been pushed from the nest because his claw was deformed. He lived over a year and learned to love me as much as I loved him. His was a happy little life despite how tragic it began. And throughout the years there were so many, many who came in and out of my life. Some I rescued and kept as my own, others I was able to find good homes for.  

Today I have my sweet, Minga.  We've such a special bond; we've grown old together.  She was but a wee babe 20 years ago when I brought her home.  Actually, she was hubby's cat, and her sister was mine.  Micheline disappeared one day, but Minga has stuck with us through thick and thin.

Thank you, mom.

As the days go on toward July, the earth becomes dry and all the flowers begin

to thirst for moisture. Then from the hillside, some warm, still evening,

the sweet rain-song of the robin echoes clear, and next day we wake up

to a dim morning; soft flecks of cloud bar the sun's way, fleecy vapors

steal across the sky, the southwest wind blows lightly,

rippling the water into little waves

that murmur melodiously as they kiss the shore.

Celia Thaxter