summer dialogue

Peas hang abundantly like clusters of grapes on the vine. Our cat Aphrodite becomes "Mighty Huntress". She lurks in the green of the garden, imagining herself to be pleasantly dangerous. Bean,the kitten, pounces on her. She cuffs him angrily, her cover blown.

Hummingbirds congregate at the back porch feeder- the animal kingdom's water cooler. Grr, our largest cat, chitters with anxious desire. He longs to catch them.

I grow tired of the kitchen. The cooking, the dishes, the counters, the floors- all of it. So I take Dante' and Maxwell camping.

Forty-five minutes to freedom. Our campsite is spacious, the largest I have seen. Three tents or more could fill the open spaces. But we don't need a tent today. We are staying in the yurt. It has three beds, two tables, chairs, a lamp and a heater. Very luxurious camping indeed.

I feel better at once. All the best sights, sounds, tastes, and smells are here. The vibrant crackling of campfires, the laughter of children, the chirping of birds in the massive evergreens that loom above our personal haven.

A quick, black crow announces our arrival. Be careful, I tell the children. They will eat everything you turn your back on. That night we lick the remains of burnt marshmallow from our sticky fingers. Maxwell and Dante' are impossibly beautiful by firelight.

We fall asleep beneath the canopy view of the yurt's dome. The last sound I hear is the low droning of grown-ups who talk carefully around the campfire while their children sleep.