“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

8.04.2008

Saturday afternoon


103 degrees outside. This was the place to be. The ever-wonderful Michael was seated to my right, steering the barge around the lake. He said more boats than usual were out & about, but as you can see, there weren't that many. My favorite other boat was the one full of teenage girls, all bikini-d up, taking turns on the tube being pulled behind their boat. Screaming and having way too much fun. You couldn't help but smile every time they flew by, with a different girl hanging on for dear life & bouncing away on the tube. When Michael offered to pull me on a tube I asked him if we'd just met, was he new here? Nuh-uh. I wanted to lay there & munch on ice & watch my skin relax. The easing up starts with the sun on that skin; the warmth makes it way cell by cell through your muscles, into your organs - heart, brain, belly begin to just slow down, to melt in the heat. You stop the barge, get in the water, float around for a while (if you're really good, like Michael, you can fold a seat flotation device in half & just sit on it underwater - chest, arms & head perfectly free & easy to hold both a beer & a conversation). I'm not that good. But never mind. I just floated around - when a boat or jet ski would come by, I waited for the wake to gently jostle me up & down & I would watch the sky move. Back into the barge & the breeze from moving feels better than anything you can imagine & by now that inner warmth has come full circle and even your skin begins to feel relaxed. The most you can do is refill your cup with ice & wave at people as they go by. Grin at each other when a crane flies right in front of you, swooping almost sideways. Back home to the pier, barge tied up, another hour of just floating. Then later, seated at a table on the pier, under a ceiling fan, you sense all that stress just whoooosshh out of your body. You can almost feel it ooze from your water-wrinkled fingertips.

9 comments:

  1. sounds better than hanging out at that dorky hotel! this is more like it! you made me fall asleep i tell you...perfect imagery and happy, happy post dear heart :) my wish for you: that your relaxed skin stays with you all week long as you meet up with your canvas....

    xoxox

    ReplyDelete
  2. Robin - I hope so. The handprint canvas is now waiting on 3 guys. One is out of town, and one is working 70 hour weeks, so I'm not sure how long it'll take to hook up with HIM. The leaf painting is coming along also. So far so good on everything.

    Supposed to be 107 degrees in Dallas today. We're usually a little cooler but heat is heat. But I'd rather deal with summer anyday than cold weather. I'm such a BABY about cold weather!

    :) Debi

    ReplyDelete
  3. tho' it's warm here, it's never that warm. melty and delicious. thanks for sharing for those of us with no access to real heat :-)

    ReplyDelete
  4. Julie - It is hot. Hot. Impossible for your muscles to stay tensed up too long when that's going on - although I'm pretty good at tensing up stuff, no matter the weather. LOL!

    :) Debi

    ReplyDelete
  5. Deb, I lurrve your writing and your art. I do so admire your willingness to take the time to share your talent.

    Peace, Love and Intense Heat,
    Rhonda

    ReplyDelete
  6. There's no better way to beat the heat than floating the day away on a luscious lake. I spent my childhood doing this...you've made me long for those perfect days as I read this gorgeous post.

    Thanks for the refreshment :)

    ReplyDelete
  7. Rhonda! Is this the lovely Rhonda from Kevin Welch's place? Thanks for checking in, and thanks for the positive vibes. I can always use them! :)

    Maybe I should post about Kevin's music sometime. Or maybe just his wonderful message board, full of terrific people. Hmmm . . . .

    :) Debi

    ReplyDelete
  8. Jaime - I usually do this all the time during the summer, but this summer hasn't worked out that way. I think that's why this past Saturday meant so much - it felt like summer had finally arrived.

    Love, Debi

    ReplyDelete

come. sit under the emma tree & let's talk. i have cookies . . .