And The Livin’ Is Easy–

July 18, 2014 by Ellen Stimson in Summertime


A summer night in paradise. Steak salad with good balsamic on the deck overlooking the pond. It has been another good day in what has been a run of them, fresh and sweet in the morning with Osprey songs, bumping up to balmy afternoons as we make our way to the beach with only waves and gulls as the soundtrack to our thoughts. Then we get to evening when we can sit outside until midnight and talk extravagantly about life just like when we were twenty-five. 

Vermonters look forward to warm summer nights. That’s what keeps us going from February to June, the thought of eating supper outside in a loose dress and bare feet. If this were Hawaii where paradise is written into the contract, we would dread the thought of bliss interrupted, but up here in the frozen north country we accept July and August as our allotted ration of bliss. It’s fabulous. We can’t get over how wonderful it is. And then it’s over. T
he ideal can make a person nervous: you worry over the inevitable decline just ahead. Better to leave early and get a head start. 
I have to leave the island this weekend for a little of the work that makes it all possible. I will catch the paper boat which comes over to drop off the news at 3 AM and leave paradise sleepy in a fast shabby boat. I will drive through the night for work in the morning and then race back here to soak up as much of the rest of this little perfect blip as I can. The kids are all here. One boy’s fishing for Stripers and one for girls. Our girl is making a new life here amongst the sand. They all make their way to us though in time for supper. Meanwhile John and I spread our blanket and let our fingertips touch. Cause it’s summer. It won’t last but it will be enough. Plenty even. This will hold us come January. So, you know what? I think I better go jump in the pond …


  • Tracie

    What a information of un-ambiguity and preserveness of precious familiarity
    regarding unpredicted emotions.

  • Lynn Silence

    Any place with a beach sounds good to me! I think my cats are convinced that our deck is a beach. Every morning they gripe at me until I get up and open the sliding glass door to the deck, where they proceed to stretch out in the sun. I t6hink sometimes that they are waiting for a waiter to bring them cold drinks and hors doeuvres!

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