Ode to Summer

For the burble of conversation in a cabin full of relatives reuniting, sharing photos of the past year, leaning back in Adirondack chairs on the porch, swapping stories over burgers and watermelon and corn on the cob.

For sunny mornings when you sit on the dock reading for hours and hours, occasionally gazing out at the ripple-less lake, mirroring bristled pines and lacy clouds.

For the pure, quiet light of constellations and the quick, piercing brilliance of the shooting star you watched and hoped for and ignored the crick in your neck, waiting to see.

For the browned crust enclosing sweet marshmallow sap, roasted over campfire coals.

For the musical swish of paddles through water and the heaving forward of the canoe.

For the cheery thunk! of a bullfrog calling his mate through the reeds and lily pads.

For the surprise of wild blueberries tucked beside your path and the burst of tart juice in your mouth.

For the long, eager lines of children and teenagers and parents and grandparents waiting for a scoop or a swirl of homemade ice cream.

For sun-warmed granite under your feet and then the thrill of adrenaline as you jump and plunge into the cool lake below.

For these and the many other gifts of summer, we thank You, Lord.