On my way home I had the window unzipped (it's a soft-top Jeep!) and I was driving along when I smelled something... familiar. Something that I hadn't smelled in a long time. It was food, but there was something else to it. All I could think of was that I wanted it. I wasn't sure what it was, but I was so hungry for it. Then it hit me: It's food cooked in warm air.
It's the smell of summer.
I got a quick glimpse of summer barbques, of playing in the yard while grandma cooked dinner. Of coming home just as it got dark, shoes squishing from wading through the creek and finding dinner ready. Of chatting outside on the porch, smelling neighbors cooking their food, hearing the comfortable murmur of other people's lives. Lawnmowers mowing, trying to beat the sunset. Mosquitoes biting, but nobody noticing because they are too busy playing. Sleeping with the familiar hum of the fan, rotating so that it blows slow waves of tepid air over your body. Staring out of a window, held captive by work or school, greedy to be in the sun that burns so quickly. Falling asleep exhausted, only to awaken to a blue sky that promises so much good.
Dear Lord, I can't wait for summer.
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