The duldrumic rumblings of summer begins with rocketry experiments. I give thanks that protective eyewear is issued without my advice.
Part 2 of the Baseball season resumed yesterday. June Gloom has extended into July. When the sun pokes through it’s been late in the afternoon and only for a short dose. The Early Girl and Heirloom tomatoes I planted early are feeling the effects of the lack of sun as they stay small and green. I’ve been practicing yoga on our green basketball court. Starting slow, clad in blue jeans or corduroys I see a flea hop across my mat while in cobra pose. I let it go for now as I silently run through a future gas assault during my next sun salutation.
Stone fruits from friends trees and guerilla black berries picked from our alley during a recycling run occupy bowls on the tables at our house. Silhouetted recyclers equipped with hand wrought poking sticks look like harpooners of old in the bows of whale boats rummaging for bottles and cans in large black and blue bins.
Backwater alleys lined with muscle cars and pick up trucks defy the NO PARKING signs while my crew of boys balance on overturned trash cans and tippy toes manuever their way in between thorned berry bushes like cartoon bears.