Sunday, July 1, 2012


A place of refuge
I am always so excited when summer makes its way back around.  It's the school girl rush of feelings that hark back to the days when summer meant a release from the drudgery of forced early morning rising and the repetition of multiplication problems.
It must be muscle memory that causes me to drag out my stored bike and polish it up, oil the moving parts and ready the basket for treasures to be found.
I yearn to be outside on sunny days.  Lounging by a pool or, better yet, sitting at the beach watching the sun light up the water with diamonds and the sounds of children's laughter as the musical score.
But I am long past my childhood summers and the days that knit the seasons together do not look much different from each other.  Usually our summers hold the promise of a week long respite from our daily life.  The King and I (not to be confused with the movie) are not ones for doing the usual, so we have decided to become tourists of our own land.  To trounce around our own city and state and become better acquainted with the unique features that have been waiting for us since our arrival here 27 years ago.  Weekend vacations that help us carve out the time to just us and open our eyes to the state made for Lovers.

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