As my husband and I were driving out of Portland last weekend, I glanced at him through my sunglasses and said “I miss summer vacation.” True, it is summer, and we were on vacation, but it wasn’t summer vacation. Growing up, summer vacation was saltwater sandals, walking to the library every afternoon, sleeping in every morning, climbing trees to play my gameboy without being disturbed by my sister. Summer was the ice cold water coursing through rocky rivers in the forests surrounding Lake Tahoe; it was the way the wind smelled as we flew through the air in the rope swing over the blackberry bushes at Aunt Mable’s beach house in Washington State. These days, that beach house belongs to Aunt Donna, trips up to Tahoe are fewer and further between (if you were wondering, renting cabins is expensive), and much to my dismay, and sadly, as an adult I no longer own a pair of saltwater sandals in my size. But that doesn’t mean summer vacation is over. Or, at least it doesn’t have to be.
I suspect I got to enjoy summer vacation longer than most. I had the opportunity to go to college, where I spent summer vacation sleeping in, working weird jobs, and thanks to the generosity of my grandparents, still found my way up to the beach house in Washington for the family reunion every August. And then I went to graduate school. The older I became, the more summer vacation became just another season, with the benefit of not having to attend class. I still worked. I still had projects to research and complete. Sometimes I still had to go to school (F U managerial accounting course). After finishing graduate school, I spent last summer job hunting, and ended up with one or more job interviews every week for eight weeks straight. That summer wasn't much fun. But this summer is different. After years of summer being just another season, this summer is different. This summer feels as though it’s full of possibility.
Perhaps that was the best thing about summer vacation growing up, too. That it was rife with possibility. It wasn’t just getting up at the same time every day, going to school, waiting for Mom to pick us up, then waiting for Dad to come home from work. Every day was different. Every day was what we made it, and there was magic in that. Though most of us adults still need to get up at the same time every day, go to work, wait for our commute trains (and then perhaps we wait for our partners to come home), there’s still time for the possibilities of summer. These possibilities aren’t exclusive to summer, of course. But summer has more of a sense of it than any other season. Perhaps that is because summer days are long, and summer nights are so inviting. Summer weekends are still only Saturday/Sunday, but if you get up early enough, you can make it pretty far in just two days in a car, or a on a train, or your bike. Wherever you go, or whatever you do, or whoever you do it with, just be open to the possibility of it being an adventure. Just what sort of adventure, I can’t tell you, but maybe you can tell me about it after you make it happen.
Last weekend, as we drove up that Historical Oregon Highway, I was lost in thought about summer. When we found ourselves in a park later that afternoon, I wandered off the lawn, away from the rest of my husband’s family; I found a small stream in the trees. I almost walked through a spider web, and I would have, too, if the sun hadn’t shone through it just right. I watched a gray spider walk invisible white lines up into the trees. I climbed down the bank; my shoes sunk into the thick, wet mud. As I crossed the stream, some buff, sweaty frolfer almost hit me in the face with his frisby. And as I stood there, wide-eyed and clutching the $500 smartphone I had just almost dropped into that small stream (pics or it didn’t happen, y’all), I realized something. As we grow up, and grow old, we have to make our own magic. We have to make our own summer vacation.
And in that spirit, I will say this. A short guide to a life rife with small adventures, and maybe even a little magic - pack a change of clothes, apply sunscreen, wear shoes you don’t give a shit about. Go.
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