whimsy

summertime . . . 13


The air was saturated from last night’s rain, and the morning sun was shining bright.

The short-lived whimsy of summertime shows in lucky moments, a function of nature, of plant life, and sunlight, and raindrops. And serendipity. Fleeting moments that rush along, quick as a hummingbird’s wings.

I was glad I decided to head out early that muggy morning.

Hush ….


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© Etikser. All Rights Reserved.
All photos and images here are my own.
They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.

showers

summertime . . . 12

The birds are quiet tonight,
full bellies I guess.
Lots of worms and bugs and fish.
But the wash of water’s all around,
the splash of puddles,
a robust rush,
behind the shrubs and trees and brush.

original post on clover and ivy

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© Etikser. All Rights Reserved.
All photos and images here are my own.
They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.

seaside

summertime . . . 8


tall ornamentals,
a moment to hold,
the dock rocks gently,
it rises and falls,
fish are lively, they’re jumping,
and the glow of the last light of this August day
shines through the clouds,
the last light
before sundown

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© Etikser. All Rights Reserved.
All photos and images here are my own.
They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.

connections, memories

summertime

Tangled memories and twisted connections.

There’s this thing about summer. It lives in our soul. It’s a memory (a feeling?) lingering from years back, an emotional synapse connecting the warm days and nights of the past with the present.

Growing up, many summers ago, I slept with windows open on both sides of the room (before AC, we had cross-ventilation), and a nighttime breeze would blow in from the outside and over the sheets. A cooling, soothing breeze to lull me to sleep. Gentle as an unexpected afternoon nap.

On one of those nights I saw the outline of my leg in the dark under the sheets, and thought it was a snake. A  big snake…as big as my leg. It scared me enough I can still remember it today, and I realized back then, even in that childish moment, how silly it was. How foolish I was.

I got scared outside tonight. Scared of what? I was scared an animal would come at me out of the dark. I was scared I’d lean back too far, looking for stars, I’d lose my balance and fall backward. Pretty foolish stuff.

Summer evenings aren’t all tenderness, nighttime prayers, gentle rains, and comforting breezes. The livin’ ain’t always easy. But it’s all there, isn’t it, not far from the surface of our psyche, the screen doors and street lights, fireflies, distant thunder, and silly childish fears. We muddle our way through life and find it all, unexpectedly at times, still tucked away where we left it, memories and juvenile emotions, and part of  the grown up person we are today. It all lives in our soul.

Summertime by George Gershwin, DuBose Heyword, and Ira Gershwin.
My previous post on Summertime, the song: https://etikser.home.blog/2020/05/28/summertime/

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© etikser. All Rights Reserved.
All photos and images here are my own.
They may not be used elsewhere or reblogged.

Gershwin, jazz, music, summertime

summertime


Summertime, the song.

And Janis Joplin. Yes, in the crazy summer of 2020, it has to be Janis Joplin. It’s an old (1934) Gershwin song, covered over and over, so there are lots of versions out there. I don’t know if it’s technically the blues, but when Janis sings it, I think it’s the blues. She opens her mouth, and she holds nothing back. There’s sorrow and there’s anguish, and there’s no attempt to pretty it up.

I’d be remiss, though, if I didn’t single out Ella Fitzgerald’s version too. It’s subdued, it’s fluid, it’s definitely jazz. You can feel the heat of a sweltering August night when the windows are open and the air is still. And Ella’s voice is soft and silky and soothing in all the ways Janis’s is ragged and desperate. Despite my opening, I suspect Ella Fitzgerald captures the mood as well as anyone can. It just might make you cry.

Summertime by George Gershwin, DuBose Heyword, and Ira Gershwin. Give it a a try.