What was summer? It was an unending haze of "play dates," chocolate milk and stuff like that. Looking back, the memories all kinda muddle together, in a sticky sweet haze of fresh mown grass. At the age of two, my family and I made the great journey from our dilapidated Williamsburg loft, to our new! dilapidated purple farm house in the sleepy upstate town of Gardiner New York. The air, land and people seemed quiet, coming from the tumultuous display of humanity and noise Brooklyn offered. And aside from the alarmingly close cracks of our neighbor Bob Gold's 22, the world seemed at peace. Every evening the solace of my mother's voice lulled me to sleep. She read me everything from Little House On the Prairie to the mishaps of Curious George. However, the best summer evenings, were when she read the simple adventures of Frog and Toad, fresh mown grass on the air. The day was the mild mannered Toad and the night the audacious Frog, the countryside's conflicting personalities in a nutshell. The frogs owned the wave lengths of the night. They fed upon its cool serenity, making the placid water of the pond a frat party of ribbets, croaks and ceaseless activity. The bellows and chirps of these green spotted masters of the dark, ceaselessly filled the void of black with reverberating tones, making old Williamsburg seem a haven of tranquility.Every summer day, I'd contemplate my nocturnal companions, and without fail every night they'd treat me to the sounds of their joyous celebration. By day, wearing my favorite light and dark green stripped shirt, I'd pay my emerald aquatic friends a visit, trying to understand their small noisy lives. It was just fun. Often they'd splashily leap away at my arrival, but on those rare occasions that I manage to grasp these slippery partiers, I felt the bond of mutual curiosity and the vibrant spirit of the night. Frog and Toad and the summer were one, each balanced, inseparable in memory.
Firstly: that photo of you is aborable haha. Secondly: This post reminds me of what I used to do during my summers which was trying to find and catch any critter that happened to show up. Usually it would just be intersting bugs but from time to time I would bring home a turtle, frogs, and snakes. My parents always freaked out with the snakes... With the frogs however, we would hold on to them. We'd put them in a plastic bucket and watch them attempt to jump out and when they did my brothers and I would squeal with excitement as we scrambled to capture them again. After our fun we would always let them go. I was never sad to watch them hop away (I'm sure they were extremely happy to get away)I knew that the next time I would catch them, the whole process would occur once more.
ReplyDeleteI love how directly the picture relates to your story. I can picture little Cameron chasing around frogs without a care in the world. I also love how you relate the frog catching to the
ReplyDeleteFrog and Toad book. It really explains why the book resided with you. It also is a great example of a child's thought process. When I was little I was always relating my fantasies to real life, because my fantasies were so real to me. I think you really captured that here.