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Reflections: Summer

by Michelle Kafka

Created on: May 08, 2008

"Summer Reflections"

Anticipating the long summer drive always excited me.
Up at six a.m. putting bathing suit on under clothes, packing towels, sunscreen, repellent and couldn't forget the sand toys.
The van always loaded to the brim with summer items.
Driving out we noticed barns with bales of hay in fields.
Watching cows and horses chew grass.
Soon, at a little gas station filling the tank.

Before the beach, fishing took our fancy at a fishing hole in Manitoba.
Icky worms for bait,
Colourful lines for bait,
Minnows for bait,
Fastening each to fishing hook.
Worms wiggled, I screamed
I screamed, brother laughed.
Dad was patient like a preacher waiting for confession.
Mom observed all.

Reeling the fish in like a careful diamond miner reeling in diamonds.
Fishing too with rod between two rocks just as two hands hold a twig.
Watching the rod tug forward when a fish latched on.
Fish in a cooler like champagne on ice.

Looking at the water, dad tugged my arm; he'd point, I'd look
Fish jumped out of the water.
The bass and trout had little wings.
Even the catfish caught my attention.

Again loading the van with our newfound treasures heading out to the beach.

Campsite sought, bathing suit on, clothes strewn, beautiful white sand with mussels and clams dotted here and there; big smiles on their pert little faces.

Spreading out my toes, cold embraced me like the king penguin embraces the cold.

My mortal and immortal selves separated only to join again in deeper waters.
I was the bear with head held high who played with the salmon splashing about.

Hunger commanded me like a general to return to campsite.

Famished like a ghost seeking flavour, the aroma immediately entered my nose.
Hot-dogs spitted and popped,
Hamburgers sizzled and cracked,
Carbonation yelled,
The "big-catch" cooked,
Bees buzzed,
Deer-fly bit,
I tasted the fish.

We played in the sand like little sand crabs would to look for shells and made sand castles too.
Seagulls overtop squawked and squibbled.
Buried my brother under a sand blanket even.

With night falling, beach yawning, eyelids drooping, we headed back to campsite.
Had to exit the beach's awesome the summer show.
Emptied pails and walked on to the candy-apple van.
With mosquito netting up like a gaudy necklace, I'd turn in for the night while taking one last look at the stars that winked at me and promised me just as much fun tomorrow.

Learn more about this author, Michelle Kafka.
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