Quarantined for the foreseeable future we scramble to make summer something other than waiting for the pandemic to end. My husband lays the calendar on our long table and marks days like a general planning an attack for hiking in lonely places with our kids. They wear masks when the trails get busy and hang back when a man crowds the path his cologne hanging heavy after he passes. After these trips, the kids tumble from the van wet and dirty, their shoes filled with dust or sludge from a creek, fumbling over each other to be the first one to tell the stories from the day. My husband brings up the rear, bearded and blue eyes bright but exhausted from the work of making their summer something other than what it is: hiding from an illness that seems to fall all around us, like sunlight or the smoke from a campfire burning damply in the backyard.
Deeply appreciate the depth and loveliness of this one....sigh!