By Lee Scott
I was driving along Sea Island Parkway yesterday and there was a line of cars in front of me all driving about 50 miles an hour, when suddenly they all started to brake and eventually came to a full stop.
What is going on? An accident, an alligator crossing the road? No, it was a large yellow metal monster with a folding stop sign and flashing lights. ”No,” my brain screamed, “Not a school bus! It can’t be. Summer just started.” But there it was emptying out little school children from its large cavity. Children with backpacks and lunchboxes. Where did summer go?
What happened to all the RVs driving down Sea Island Parkway, dragging little smart cars on their way to beach destinations? Where are the trucks with their fifth wheelers coasting down the highway with names like “Our Lady Liberty” or “Dad’s Dog House” or “The Beast”? And what happened to all those minivans with so many bicycles attached to the back that you couldn’t see their license plates? I miss seeing the long line of cars with suitcases and beach chairs stuffed in the car. What happened to all the out-of-state license tags heading to the beach?
How does this happen? Every year the summer just flies by and I am once again surprised that it is over. The reason is because I love summer so much. I love the big floppy summer hats, the beach chairs and the beach umbrellas. I love the smell of sun tan lotion and that aloe cream you put on after a sunburn. I love hearing children laugh at the beach when the waves smack into them. I love holding a child’s hand as we look for shells on a deserted beach.
For many of us, part of summertime magic is the memories from years past. Time spent with parents without being told to do homework or go to bed early. Time spent catching fireflies in peanut butter jars with holes punched in the lid. Time when you were allowed to get dirty playing in mud puddles after a summer rain.
As we enter the new school year, the hustle and bustle begins. But the magic of summer is still with me. Memories of time spent with my parents and children, and now my grandchildren.
Yes, the yellow monster is back on the road but, take heart, only nine more months until summer.
