The Summer heat hardly touched Chebeague Island. The cool sea breezes flowed so liberally over the seven-mile-long and two-mile-wide island in Casco Bay. The dog days there left me refreshed enough to meet the rest of the year that was so often filled with turmoil and too many changes for a young girl to handle.
The softly lapping waves that slowly rearranged the rocky shore were so soothing. That sound still echoes in my mind. The ubiquitous cry of the seagulls still rings through my dreams like a call to that tranquility found during those blissful days. I was truly free in that small spot. It was safe and I could come and go as my 8-year-old self, wanted. I did too. I think my favorite activity besides swimming in those almost frigid waters was berry picking on a relatively hot morning. There were blueberries, blackberries, and raspberries. Our mouths were covered with the corresponding colors as we ate at least half of what we cooked. We would put them in the baskets and run back to the small cottage with yelps of joy and anticipation. We waited patiently while aunty made muffins. That smell was so yummy and spread over the entire island. When finished, we grabbed two, as that was our limit after consuming so many of the berries and race barefoot down to the beach. Carefully holding on to our treasure. We sat on the driftwood and planned our next adventure.
the salty air
calls forth images of Summer
a whale breaches
© Carol Campbell
Hayes Spencer is hosting this week and has asked us to write a haibun about the dog days of Summer.