Summertime...

...And the living is easy. Or so the song goes. Yes, I know it’s not officially summer yet, but in my town summer begins on Memorial Day. That’s when the town pool opens (on the weekends, at least), and folks in New Jersey start going “down the shore,” a term I never heard until I moved to the “Garden State.”

            For a freelance writer, summer isn’t really much different than any other season. I make my own hours, write when the assignments come, and have just as many deadlines (if not more) than I have during the winter. But I love summer, nevertheless. I love the sounds of kids playing outside (my next door neighbors have three little boys, just as I once did), I love the sounds of blue jays cawing as they soar across my yard, and I love the evenings, filled with fireflies and cicadas.

            I’ve always wondered if I would be a happier, more productive person if I lived in a warmer climate year-round (some of my friends who have jumped the east coast ship could probably answer that question), but I’m not sure that it matters. And anyway, I’ve yet to hear that not a single person in California or Florida ever gets sick or depressed; virtual sunshine can work wonders, but it can’t solve every problem we have.

            The real question is how to keep that summertime going year-round inside your heart. I’ve read and heard in so many places lately that we have the power to make our days sunny and beautiful, just by filling our hearts with love and gratitude. If that’s the case, then you could be blissed out in an igloo in Alaska, just as easily as being filled with despair in Baja. It’s all a matter of your inner landscape and climate.

            I’ll have to remind myself, when winter next comes, to keep the bird songs and the scent of flowers, and the warm rays of the August sun in my heart. Summer, in my humble opinion, is an excellent reminder that it’s up to us to let the sunshine in.